Wife Swap
I love perfume. It is one of those little luxuries that I never buy myself but love to get as a gift.
Byron loves Kylie. The pint sized singer who started out in the Aussie soap Neighbours.
There is a long standing family joke in our house that some day Byron is going to swap me for Kylie. Yes, Kylie will stop and look at her life and see how incomplete it is and will be secretly yearning to take over my role as Mum, cook, ironing lady, toilet scrubber and homework supervisor.
That day may be a long time coming but in the meanwhile Kylie is filling up her sad empty days with promoting her latest perfume.
I smelt it the other day as we walked through a posh department store. I shut my eyes, inhaled deeply and for a moment I was deaf to the sounds of three kids at my feet. I was beautiful, I was pampered, I had flawless make up and manicured nails.I exhaled and opened my eyes slowly to a puzzled looking Mr B.
That night he went to bed to find the little smelly piece of card sprayed with Couture on his pillow. He didn't notice it. The next night it fell out of his pj's as he took them out from under his pillow. He absentmindedly picked the card off the carpet and put it on his bedside locker. The subliminal hinting must have worked because on our anniversary this weekend I unwrapped... you guessed it! A beautiful bottle of this wonderful perfume just for me.
The kids think it is hilarious. They think their Dad bought it so I could smell like Kylie. They think that when I wear it he will think the swap has happened. They have no idea of the subliminal hints I have carefully manipulated. They have no idea that I finally made contact with Kylie's agent last Monday. That she rang me personally on Tuesday morning as I was folding Byron's undies. How she begged me to let her share my life. How she felt undervalued and worthless in her shallow life of glitz and glamour and showbiz. They have no idea that she has packed her bags and her yellow marigold rubber gloves, that she has put away her high heels and swapped them for slippers to do the ironing in.
Yes dear blog readers I regret to inform you that this may be my last blog entry here.
For tomorrow I will be walking down a red carpet somewhere in gorgeous high heels and a designer gown smiling at the paparazzi and signing autographs. I wonder how long Kylie will last before she rings to arrange a swap back?
Ooops, there goes the sound of the school bus pulling up. I better wake up and open the door to my normal life. Just one more little squirt of smelly to give me strength....
I can dream can't I!
Oooh, nice!!
She does have Welsh ancestry you know Mrs B.
You're irreplaceable though!
xxx
Dear Mr Baynham
It has come to the attention of myself and my management team that you are using my name on your blog. Although I have no control of the internet I would appreciate more respect from fellow "Australians (via Wales and Ireland of course)"
I am indeed flattered that you would leave your wife for me but the truth be known, I have had nothing but misery from Australian men. Firstly, there was Jason. Even though we were neighbours, our relationship was doomed. Then there was Michael Hutchence. That's a story in itself!! I didn't want to get tied down with him. Finally, there was another man that most of my fans do not know of. His name is Graham Jennings. I must admit I chased and stalked him over many years but to no avail. I thought when he ditched Halle Berry for Claudia Schiffer, then left that relationship for Angelina Jolie I might have a chance. Unfortunately, that wasn't meant to be.
So, as you can see, if I was settle for an Aussie bloke, it would have to undoubtedly be for Graham. I hope you continue to be a loyal fan.
Yours faithfully
Kylie M xxxx
*** UPDATE ***
Dear Mr Baynham, or can I call you Byron?
Apologies for my frosty last comment, that was my agency acting on my behalf.
Sigh. "I just can't get you out of my head."
Your blog entry prompted me to finally bite the bullet and contact Graham directly. I thought that it would be "Better the Devil you know". How wrong I was...
Clearly I thought he was the man for me.
Clearly I thought he'd make my dreams come true.
Clearly I thought he'd make me feel so lucky in love,
"Lucky, lucky, lucky...."
But I soon realised that my dreams would be a nightmare. Yes, he's dashing. Yes, he's tall, handsome and funny.
Unfortunately he's just too popular with the ladies.
For instance his agent just informed me that he has left a trail of broken hearts. After Angelina put her love-tryst with Brad Pitt on hold for Graham, he also sensationally broke her heart by announcing his undying love for Dame Edna !
I didn't have the heart to tell him that Dame Edna is actually.... oh never mind... it's all so complicated. Needless to say, my head feels like it's "Spinning Around".
I need a strong shoulder to cry on, and whilst I know that your shoulders are prone to anterior dislocation, I'm prepared to risk everything for you, and hope you can also "Confide in Me".
Please don't think I'm pushy but my bags are already packed.
I'll bring a case of extra perfurme "Especially for you".
K.
xxx