The deadliest, jelliest site ever. Brought to you by Niamh Shaw

Me: Here’s your coffee. It’s black because there’s no milk left.


Me: You know, we’d have PLENTY of milk if you’d LISTENED to me when you fetched two cartons of milk at the supermarket and I told you we needed FOUR cartons to last two weeks. Instead of INISISTING that two cartons was PLENTY.

Me: And now, WHAT A SURPRISE, here we are, all run out of milk, even after I sneaked off and got another carton while you were STANDING around the aisle ARGUING with me.

Me: So the next time we’re in the supermarket and I say, “Honey, we need eight litres of milk for two weeks, in other words twice as many cartons as that,” what are you going to say?

Husband: I’ll say, “You are SO RIGHT, sweetie.”

Me: Very good. And in the MEANTIME, I don’t want to hear you bitchin’ about drinking black coffee, or having to substitute cream or yoghurt or whatever and how it just doesn’t taste the same-


Me: What the- oh my god- are you STILL REGURGITATING THAT OLD CHESTNUT? It was TWELVE YEARS AGO! Like, 1999 or 1998 but definitely before it was even the year 2000! Surely there has to be some sort of statute of limitations, or are you still going to be going ON ABOUT IT when we’re 90? I mean, GET OVER IT!

Husband: All I’m saying is: I simply don’t feel the milk offence is on the same scale as getting someone an iron for Valentine’s Day.

Me: The lack of milk might be a lesser offence but its repercussions are far-reaching, the reverberations of which are still felt TO THIS DAY AND BEYOND.

Husband: It’s just.

Husband: I still can’t believe you gave me an iron for Valentine’s Day.


Comments on: "Regurgitating an old chestnut" (13)

  1. Cian said:

    A statute of limitations for getting Husband an Iron for Valentine’s Day. Yeah – I believe it is called Death of both parties, and only if it is not engraved on the tombstone within 50 years post erection of said tombstone.

    As for the Milk – send him down the peninsula to milk the goats rather than shoot them.

  2. deadlyjelly said:


    ‘Here lies Niamh, beloved wife of Andrew, got him an iron for Valentine’s Day’.

    I LIKE IT!


  3. Cian said:

    If I live longer than you two, that’s going to be my parting gift. Now there’s a promise.

  4. deadlyjelly said:



  5. said:

    You got him an IRON for Valentine’s Day???! Wow, that is harsh 🙂 It reminds me of a friend’s father who bought his wife an ice cream scoop for their wedding anniversary! It is SO on the same scale. He didn’t understand her anger and disgust, saying, “But we NEED an ice cream scoop…” Logic was sound, but he neglected to remember that his wife doesn’t eat ice cream!
    I think you can remind Andrew of a certain underwear gift to counter the iron argument…

  6. deadlyjelly said:

    I’m surprised you never heard that one! Andrew still brings it out and brandishes it like a magic weapon (when he’s left his swiss-army codpiece at home) whenever he feels threatened.

    I suspect I’m SO GOING TO regret this, but – the certain underwear gift? My memory’s not that good any more; sometimes I can’t remember my dog’s name. In any case, I’m pretty sure my stalker Cian will not SLEEP until he knows what it’s all about.


  7. deadlyjelly said:

    By the way, his shirts were REALLY wrinkly. Also, Andrew’s notoriously difficult to buy presents for.


  8. Cian said:

    I am sitting on a tram in knots. Oh this post is about to hit the big time. Underwear!

    As for Andrew being difficult to buy for, I think not. A pair of random second hand boots perhaps? Or a metal thingie from a hardware store or trademe?

    But really with all this feeling sorry for Andrew surely he is a tiny bit chuffed right now.

  9. Keren said:

    Hmm, now let me see if I can do this without giving too much away. Wouldn’t want Cian to have to stop wondering…
    Many years ago, dear old Andy bought you Dolly Parton’s bra and Keira Knightley’s delicates, clearly highlighting his schoolboy perception of his lovely wife 😉
    *This post was a joint effort by Team Chitt, by the way*

  10. For some reason, I assumed “regurgitating an old chestnut” would be a post about Jed’s scavanging habits. Imagine how relieved I was.

    If I received an iron for a Valentine’s gift, I would be stricken with confusement. I can’t easily imagine a more intriguing mix of flattery and studied insult, wrapped up in one little package. Bravo!

  11. deadlyjelly said:

    Team Chitt> OH YES! The underwear gift that clearly illustrated how flatteringly yet ultimately tragically divorced from reality was his mental image of his wife. Those were the days, when he thought my dimensions were along the lines of Jessica Rabbit’s. It’s been a while since Husband bought me underwear, but I suspect I’d be getting flannel pyjamas these days.

    Vet> admit it! You were DISAPPOINTED the post wasn’t about Jed revisiting dinner. Indeed, I thought the iron was a most pressing Valentine’s gift. However, the package wasn’t that little, being large and awkwardly wrapped.


  12. The road to Hell is paved with the best of intentions. I’m sure the iron was a very well thought out and meaningful gift at the time.

  13. deadlyjelly said:

    THANK YOU! Andrew’s shirts were very wrinkly. And I’ve always wanted to visit Hell; I hear it’s much like Sweden, only better.


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