Kevin Page: Household's latest fad has dramatic consequences

Mrs P's put the pooch on a raw food diet - but it's had unexpected consequences. Photo / 123rf

COMMENT:

When it comes to fads, be it fashion or some other apparently useful application which will make my day run smoother, I've never been right at the front of the line.

In the early 70s, I distinctly remember having a spiky, red David Bowie haircut and I wore a parka jacket. One of those with the fur around the edge on the hood. And it had to be green at our school.

As the years wore on fads became less important to me.

I didn't bother with the skateboard or the Magnum PI telly programme-inspired Hawaiian shirt craze and getting involved with the general chaos of the 80s seemed less important than paying a mortgage, changing nappies and doing up our first house.

In fact, I think I spent the 80s mixing concrete by hand to save money.

But I digress.

So, we're talking fads and, more particularly, the latest one to have arrived at the doorstep of our humble abode.

As I say, I've never really been into the latest this or that, preferring instead just to get on with life.

My beloved has gone through life in a similar vein, though I have seen a grainy photo of her in her school uniform on a skateboard.

Spunkiest skateboard I've ever seen, I can tell you. Ahem.

Anyway.

A short while ago, the Boomerang Child – she's the one who always comes back – decided to put her dog on a raw food diet and before I could say "what's wrong with cheap processed dog roll from the supermarket?" our very own canine was chomping down on the new stuff and enjoying a new lease on life.

Then the fun started.

The Boomerang Child happened to chance upon some research that suggested adding the contents of a liquid turmeric capsule to your pooch's meal each evening will make their coat even shinier and improve their general wellbeing. So she rang her mum.

Mrs P bought it wholeheartedly. She also went and bought a box of the capsules.

I was less convinced. I mean, to be honest, if it had been a capsule that gives the dog the ability to pick up his own poo in a bag and/or not fart while he's laying next to me on the couch I'd have been all for it. But it didn't.

So, come the other night Mrs P is sorting the dog food. At our place, we do it on the laundry bench next to the tub.

Now, you may recall not that long ago we renovated our bathroom. Our place is not huge so we put a separate laundry bench in there.

I have to say the whole bathroom project came out really good.

So good in fact, occasionally I find Mrs P just standing in the doorway staring at the soft, light colour and new basin/shower/bath/toilet, etc, with a look of serenity and satisfaction. You blokes may have seen it in your partner yourselves. Apparently, every woman hankers for a new bathroom some time in their life.

I can't say it does the same for me.

I checked out mentally a long time ago. Round about the time she got her girlfriends round and they stood there for over an hour trying to work out whether "quarter" black white (who knew that was actually a colour?) would be better than "half" black white on the walls and ceiling.

It didn't really matter to me. And I'm yet to get the chance to formulate an opinion because she makes me use the loo at the other end of the house for fear of spoiling the new one.

Anyway. Again.

She's been preparing the dog food there over the last week including squeezing the juice out of the turmeric capsule.

You may have guessed where this is going.

Now I can't tell you exactly which day it happened - neither of us actually noticed the fine specks of turmeric against the paintwork and in newly subtle lighting at the time - but I can tell you where it ended up: All over the black white ceiling and halfway up the wall.

It's actually something of a miracle it didn't hit her in the face.

It would be fair to say upon noticing the by now dried two-or-three-day old mess, Mrs P let out a rather loud scream.

Naturally, I came running to help. She would have expected that. But judging by the look on her face I shouldn't have roared with laughter when I saw the mess.

And nor should I have heeded her increasingly hysterical demands and tried immediately to "wipe it off with a damp cloth with a bit of Jif on it".

A moment of contemplation and careful consideration of the appropriate removal method of such a stain would probably have been better.

Instead, I just succeeded in making the stain significantly larger and yellower and my wife significantly more distraught.

So, this week we'll be getting onto the insurance people to see if they can help us with a solution.

Obviously, I'm already thinking outside the square.

If insurance can't help I might suggest to Mrs P we squeeze a few more turmeric capsules out on the bathroom walls and ceiling to see if we can turn it into a work of art.

I figure it's worth a shot.

You never know. It might end up being the latest fad.