IT'S a wet Sunday afternoon and I've been banished to the other end of the house.
Mrs P is in the middle of an "Anything Jamie Oliver Can Do ... " day and is going crazy in the kitchen.
So far I've been called back on separate occasions to taste sushi and chicken soup.
This has been a little helpful because it briefly halted the boredom that has overtaken me.
Unfortunately, any chance of me prolonging that state and staying close to my beloved disappeared with the bullet wound I've just put in my foot.
That'll teach me to suggest ... er, a mid-afternoon "cuddle", won't it?
"Darling," she said compassionately. "I would relish the chance to experience such an opportunity with such a fine physical specimen as yourself but on this occasion I'm going to have to pass."
Well, I'm pretty certain when she said: "Go away" (or two words to that effect) that's what she really meant. Besides, she had a rather large kitchen knife in her hand at the time, so I wasn't going to argue.
But it got me thinking. What do you do on a boring, wet Sunday afternoon? Here are 10 suggestions:
1. Do some cooking. Get a few meals sorted for the freezer in the busy week ahead. Not that great if you aren't cooking inclined. I've discovered beans on toast are soggy when defrosted.
2. Watch a good movie. Good luck. It goes without saying there is never anything good on the telly.
3. Pay some bills. Which will confirm you pay a lot of money for a telly service only to find there's never anything good on.
4. Go open homing. Any opportunity to get out of the house is a good one. Plan ahead, though - there's nothing worse than turning up, having to take your shoes off and realising you've got a big hole in your sock right where your big toe pokes through.
5. Darn your socks (see above). Or, if you don't know what darning is, go buy some new ones ... it will be quicker.
6. Read a book. I think people still do that don't they - or is it all "podcasts" and "webinars" now days? If you are over 60 I will explain exactly what they are later ... once I get my head around them myself.
7. Skype your granddaughter. I sort of know what this is ... well, I know what buttons to push on the "thing" etc.
Mind you, I'm told there are other, easier ways to do that now on your phone so it is already a bit old hat.
A bit like Facebook - I just worked that out and now everyone is talking about leaving it. Was it something I said?
8. Get the vinyl out people, and give those old records a spin. Or, like me, if you got rid off them, make a mental note to go and buy some at the second-hand shop as soon as you can.
They are making a comeback and next time they go out of fashion and then come back unexpectedly they'll be worth a fortune.
9. Get some friends round, have a wine and recreate those gay icons Village People singing YMCA. Ask Dr Google, you youngies.
And if you have teenagers or under-30s in the place, absolutely insist they take part. Tell them you are making a video for YouTube and you need their input to make it go viral.
If nothing else you'll have a huge giggle and have the neighbours wondering if you are practising for the next Hero parade.
10. Lastly, write your weekly newspaper column rather than leave it to the last minute the night before. Come to think of it, that's a good idea ... I think I'll do that.
*Kevin Page is a teller of tall tales and a firm belief that laughter helps avoid frown lines. Your own tales and feedback are welcome on firstname.lastname@example.org