Oh shit, I'm losing my hair

I've lost my dignity and I've lost my sanity. Now I'm losing the rest.

I was sitting in the living room with Hastrobal this morning debating whether Dostoevsky or Tolstoy had more influence on 20th century literature when my lovely wife strolled in. She stopped behind me and made a sort of wifely snort.

"You know," she remarked, "your bald spot is coming along very nicely."

I slumped in my chair. (How else is a man to react to such a statement? Although having said that, Throckmorton just blinked and went slightly bleary eyed like Prince Andrei at Austerlitz.)

"I'm not being nasty," she said. "I honestly mean it. It's coming along nicely."

With this she made a circle with her hands in front of my face then slowly widened it as if she were demonstrating the ever expanding universe.

I slumped further.

Kikuchiyo shat.

I now lack dignity, sanity and hair. I hope I remember to reclaim my manhood at some stage in the future. In the meantime I'm still carrying a tote bag.

Maybe I'll take up ping-pong.