We played a lot of cribbage. Marge usually won three out of every four games we played and she was not the least bit hesitant about rubbing it in, but...I enjoyed her company so I put up with the ridicule.It was a Monday night and Earl was on the road. Marge had invited me over for dinner and an evening of embarrassing me at the cribbage board and I walked in to find her dusting the top of her ceiling fan blades. She was standing on the top rung of a rickety ladder and when I walked into the room. Monica lifted the front lid of the last one and indicated for me to sit down. I sat down and slid across until I was under the dome; Monica folded the lid down and then passed me the rubberised switch on a flex which she had already turned onto 'HOT'. I couldn't hear what she said and just smiled weakly.I spent the next half an hour under the hot dryer until Greg came along and lifted the front lid. He beckoned me forward so that he could check one of my curls. He stood right in front of me. More

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