My husband has been having an affair with a real beauty these past few years; sleek, with a cute 'rear end', loud and racy. I try not to act too jealous but when I see the way he fondly strokes and rubs the bodywork I have to say that there are times when I find it all just a bit much.
She lives on her own, next door to us which is a little too close for comfort. When ever my husband is missing and not away from home, I know that this is where he will be. As a high maintenance type there is always something that she needs to have done.
Recently my husband bought her a new coat, high fashion and designer, of three hues that causes it to glow in the sunshine. The way a pint of Guinness is flecked with gold when held up to the light, as he described it to me.
She also causes a bit of a stir in our neighbourhood as she frequently attracts the attention of the other men that live close by. They will often openly admire her and in this respect she's been a bit of an ice breaker. I am of course referring to my husband's motor bike; a Yamaha TRX 850.
And there are concerns for her safety which are most touching, no really. The other night one of our neighbours took the trouble to wake us up to inform that the garage door had come open. Someone might steal her he said.
To my surprise she is also very appealing to most of the younger kids round our way, now that they have got used to her wake up call. One little boy told me that he doesn't have to set his alarm for school anymore as the roar gets him up every morning without fail.
And for me, there are still times when as my husband zooms off to work on his Yamaha, the first sip of tea that I am about to take jolts down my front instead. She is definitely not the type that likes to be taken for granted I think.
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