grabbed the keys, slipped quietly into the garage to load up the tyres
and gear, and proceeded to back out into a torrential downpour.
The wind was blowing 80 kph. I pulled back into the garage, turned
on the radio, and discovered that the weather would be bad throughout
the day.
I went back into the house, quietly undressed, and slipped back into
bed. There I cuddled up to my wife's back, now with a different
anticipation, and whispered, 'The weather out there is terrible.'
My loving wife of 20 years replied, 'Can you believe my stupid
husband is out competing in that shit?'
I still don't know to this day if she was joking, but I have stopped
entering any motor sport.
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