Those of you who read this blog might remember a recent crisis that threatened to shake the foundations of my marriage. I am referring, of course, to the sudden, catastrophic destruction of the cheese grater which made Robbi fall in love with me way back when.

When the grater broke, so did Robbi’s interest in matrimony. It was only with tremendous effort, and constant appeals to the well-being of our children, that Robbi has agreed to stick around these past few weeks.

Things were looking grim indeed until an unexpected parcel arrived in the mail the other day. The package appeared to be from my mother. I opened it with excitement. My mother still loved me, even if Robbi didn’t. What I found inside filled my heart with renewed hope. I handed the contents to Robbi, anxious and uncertain, but optimistic.

Robbi’s joy was followed by fresh declarations of interest in our marriage.

I was relieved, to say the least.

I took the grater out of its packaging and tried it out.

It is, without a doubt, a stronger, better contraption than its predecessor. Not only is the act of grating easier now, but the handle is sturdier and of superior design. It should take a lot longer to break.

If the grater is to be seen as a metaphor for me, then I have suddenly gotten a lot more attractive, at least as far as Robbi is concerned.

I mean, look at this woman. She is enthralled. I like to think my marriage is in good shape for at least another decade or two.