About half a year ago I used on myself that new, fabulous perfume my husband brought me from Kuwait.
It smells wonderful – tender floral aroma.
I came to the livingroom, where was residing my beloved half, and innocently asked: “How do I smell, honey?”
He, so devilishly honestly, looked at me and replied without moving a muscle: “Like every housewife.”
What is that, did I think? Like baking cupcakes?
“And how does a housewife smell,” inquired silly me.
(A moment of surprised silence on his side.)