Husbands who end up floored by retirement

No doubt you read that stuff in the paper the other day about the pitfalls of retirement and the often fraught reorganisation…

No doubt you read that stuff in the paper the other day about the pitfalls of retirement and the often fraught reorganisation of the domestic set-up that follows.

The main problem seems to involve the newly-retired husband wandering in a daze around the house, wondering what that strange kitchen machine with the porthole is for, and generally getting in the wife's way.

One woman summed it up by saying that she was "quite unprepared for having him under my feet all day every day".

Look: there is a very simple solution to this problem and I am surprised that more wives do not know about it.

READ MORE

What you do - at the first hint of trouble - is to take the offending newly-retired husband and have him professionally reconstituted by a trained specialist (in the field).

A number of these lads are discreetly listed in the Yellow Pages under the category Retired Husbands (Care Of).

And, as far as I know, they are all respected practitioners, apart from one who was struck off about five years back for cutting corners in some unspecified but apparently grisly manner.

The actual treatment is quite straightforward.

After a standard medical examination, the operation itself is by all accounts pain-free, or nearly so.

It involves insertion of the husband in a stainless steel extrusion chamber which by means of interior panels is gradually made tighter and tighter.

Critics of the procedure have likened the chamber to something out of Edgar Allen Poe.

But that is mere scare-mongering, though a good stiff whiskey before sliding into the yoke is advisable.

The machine is then turned on (ear-muffs are recommended at this stage) and in no time at all - a little less than an hour - the husband is extruded in full through slits in the steel chamber on to a large metal tray.

If things have gone as they are supposed to (accidents are rare, but rather gory when they occur) what you have now is quite a surprising amount of a firm, resilient hemp-like substance, in strips, and of a colour resembling magnolia.

After a good scrubbing with Dettol, this should be placed carefully in the boot of the car and taken home as quickly as possible.

When the material is fully dry, after about two days or so, what you should end up with is about 40 or 50 square yards of covering, suitable for almost any floor provided a good-quality felt underlay is put down first.

An added advantage is that the material can be painted any colour to tone in with the surroundings.

The rest of the job can be done by almost anyone, even a wife with modest DIY skills.

Simply lay the reconstituted husband in strips on the felt-covered floor.

Most retired husbands will, when properly processed, provide enough material to cover, say, a kitchen and living-room.

Any off-cuts can be used as draught-excluders.

The result is that the wife now has the husband under her feet all day long, but without the nuisance of bumping into him all the time.

The material is curiously elastic and the wife can be sure of having a spring in her step as she moves about her domestic duties.

The retired husband may be teased by his mates about letting the wife walk all over him but he has the last laugh.

Why?

Because he does not have to confront the unbearable tedium of finding a new interest, e.g. some atrocious "hobby" like tennis or fishing.

Nor can he be nagged by the Retirement Planning Council about retirement courses and cross-skilling (why did I nearly write cross-killing?).

Nor about domestic rulebooks and skills deficits and periods of transition and the like.

Instead, he can lie about quietly all day long, knowing he is being of useful service.

I will come back to this retirement business again when I have had a rest, the whole thing is wearing me out.