There's a scary thing about guys we love that we often forget, writes Pat Veltkamp Smith in And Another Thing.
It's that literal interpretation of whatever we say.
Now you know how often we reef off about something or ooh-aah about something else and there's just nothing in it.
But someone who loves you can see it quite differently.
I first noticed that when I was about 12 years old and Dad came to town with me while I was to get a school uniform overcoat.
Standard issue - smooth navy blue wool gabardine with navy buttons.
In the shop my heart went bling-bling over a nobbly navy coat with bright gold buttons. It fitted and I loved it and Dad said, let's get it, it's navy isn't it.
You could say that, but nothing else.
Still, Dad bought it for me and I loved him for it and spent that winter saying, "Cold? What of it? My blazer's plenty warm enough for me" and I loved that nobbly navy coat with bling-bling buttons long after I'd left school.
Well, a while ago I was muttering about the slow speed of our stove top, just muttering as you do making white sauce or something.
But I must have done it a bit because next thing it was gone and we had a brand new induction type cook top with a special book to read up about it, and a ban on all pots that don't have the right bottom best ascertained by hitting the base with a fridge magnet.
If it doesn't stick, then the pot's no good which most of ours proved to be; no good and due for replacement.
Induction cooking is a great wonderful new thing like microwaving once was and still is round here.
The stove top doesn't get hot, but the cook does a bit - like the girl wearing the wrong school uniform coat and knowing it is her own fault that she rejoices in something so outre.
We no longer turn knobs off and on, or up and down.
We just touch a finger over a spot marked plus or minus and the heat's up or not.
It'll take a while to learn - like everything else that comes with instructions in five languages and very fine print.
- © Fairfax NZ News