Living with my dementia-riddled father-in-law’s been proper mental lately. The old bloke’s convinced I’m his late wife—come to think of it, he’s tried to have his way with me more times than I can count. Always stopped him just in time, but the geezer wouldn’t take no for an answer.
Figured maybe if I let him have just the tip, he’d chill the hell out. Bloody hell, was I wrong—the second he pushed in, I bloody lost it.