Prostitution is the answer…
Prostitution is the answer.
That’s the conclusion that Farmer’s Wife and I came to in the playground yesterday morning. Like us, she is not overburdened with spare disposable income. So, like us, she is pushing her son hard in the direction of secondary scholarships. Our sons are in different years, so we can still speak to one another. Which is good, as she is fun.
Of course, our sons are musical and academic geniuses and will naturally get scholarships coupled with massive bursaries. But just in case someone fails to realise their genius potential, we need a back-up plan.
Given that neither of us is qualified for anything lucrative (I have a doctorate in mediaeval literature, and she mucks out pigs), our options are limited. In fact, they’re limited to prostitution.
“Though even that might be a problem,” said Farmer’s Wife, looking us both up and down. “I’m not sure we’d get any takers.” She was fresh from the pigs; I was in my best gardening anorak (the one with only three holes. School fees take their toll on the wardrobe).
Maybe she had a point.
I would obviously have to write a bestseller instead, I thought … [continued]