![IMG-PHOTO-ART--1013121300.jpg](https://images.hive.blog/DQmcBoPQsDZyenr43oQbDm8M9CxRn1PtL1izZcyswohobMA/IMG-PHOTO-ART--1013121300.jpg)


*Good grief, what are you up to?!*

The Good Lady's voice squawked in disbelief somewhere to my side.

I turned, ever so slowly, that Barry White tune that no one knows and yet everyone knows ***ba ba ba ba bum'd*** in my head...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8DnqySRT9gg&feature=youtu.be&t=7

*Hey baby-pancake, You mean this?*

I waggled my razor blade at her seductively as if it were a fern with a ladybug on it.

The Good Lady stood, just outside the bathroom door her face rumpled up a mix of  disgust and intrigue like the time I waved a carrot at her and asked if she would like some *vegan bukkake.*

*Yes, I mean that. Are you... Are you... shaving your chest?*

She stuck her neck out to get a closer look as if she didn't dare step any closer.

*Yes, my sweet little bonbon. I am indeed shaving the majesty of my chest.*

I stuck a couple of fingers in the foam beside one of my nipples which had dared to poke free like a little mouse's nose pushing through a sea of cotton wool and quickly covered it up again.

*But... But... What the hell for?!*

The Good Lady *skrawked,* hopping from one leathery foot to another.

I made a *flubbery-bubbery* noise with my lips at her incredulity.

*What for? Well, I thought it was kinda obvious but if I need to spell it out..? Now that I have started running to keep in shape again I thought it would help streamline me a bit.*

I dragged the razor over what had once been a veritable prairie of man-hair leaving a stark pinkish road through the foamy countryside of my chest.

*But you don't run naked? You wear a top. So, how the hell would shaving your chest help?*

The Good Lady narrowed an eye, her investigative juices beginning to bubble excitedly.

*Ah...*

I stopped shaving for a moment and nodded. 

*Damn, girl. You got me. You got me fair and square. Called me out good and proper.*

I sighed the deep and heavy sigh of a husband who sees his *wife-thing* pick up and the laptop and realises with a lurch that he might not have opened an *incognito* window when surfing the web last night.

*So...?*

If the Good Lady had a foot to spare she would have been tapping it suspiciously on the floor.

I broke and held my hands out to the side. 

*Well, alright then. You've forced my hand. I confess. I am keeping my chest trim for the laydeez!!! You know what I mean, brutha!*

I winked and held out a hand for a high five to show that we were *bruthas-in-arms* and that all dem *laydeez* had better be watching out.

*It's still lockdown? How can it be for the ladies!?!*

The Good Lady waved her arms around like an old Dutch windmill remembering the glory days.

*And besides that, you cheeky bastard, I am your bloody lady?!*

She fixed me with a glare that could make *frubes.*

*Alright then. You want me to stop?*

I sighed and looked down at the floor.

The Good Lady stepped forward daintily.

*Yes please Daddy-Bear, I like you with a bit of hair.*

She ruffled the hair on my bowed head before turning on her heel and leaving the bathroom.

I waited two long minutes, my breathing slow and quiet, listening to see if she had really gone.

All was silent. 

I started shaving again. 

*Oh yeah, for the laydeez!*