Motorbikes are my husband’s raison d’être.
Although he says he couldn’t live without me.
Realistically, he’d be unhappier without them.
Cooking and shopping, he already does it.
He’d maybe miss my alien (lack of) humour, my stay-at-home inclination, my weight on the pillion seat (when adjusting the chain) and the music I play that he doesn’t like. He definitely would miss me making his bed.
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