Generation gap

One of the (very) few drawbacks to having a long term care plan younger husband is that he doesn’t always get your cultural references.

Case in point:  While working on a self-portrait today, I was blending the oils on the canvas when I forgot one of my fingers had black paint on it.  I joked that I had inadvertently painted myself as an Adam Ant fan, and hubs looked at me like a dog being shown a card trick.  I sighed and pulled up YouTube for a five minute lesson on Adam Ant and the New Romantics / Second British Invasion from the late seventies/early eighties.

He now won’t stop complaining about having lost five minutes of his life that he’ll never get back.  He was especially horrified when I admitted that this song goes through my head frequently, as I “don’t drink, don’t smoke” and am, by many standards, a goody two shoes.  “It’s like I don’t even know you”, he said.

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