Magnetic Man

And then a long lost school friend who I’ve just Facebooked, asks me to describe the man I married. Wasn’t the best of times, since I’d had a long silent sulk this morning, which he didn’t even notice. Anyways, after chewing on my mouse (pencil/ pen/ nails – it’s just a figure of speech ok?) I got that one word to describe him !
“Magnetic”. A magnetic personality.
I mean, everything electronic just flies at him.
As soon as he enters the door, after a whole day at office, for example, the remote control flies into his hand. His feet are then drawn to the television, and his body responds immediately to gravity and attains a horizontal position, from which it is only coaxed out when the beer can flies once again into his hand.
At times like this, I resist the temptation to throw the frying pan at him. After all, it’s metal, isn’t it? It should go and meet the middle of his eyebrows on its own. Hardly my fault ! He’s magnetic !