Joint custody

My dear Mr. Velkar,

It has come to my notice, that not only has our divorce been a source of amused bewilderment for many, and deep affliction for others, we have singularly failed to have even one single uncivilised exchange about sharing of our property, goods and chattel. I appreciate that a lack of wailing miniatures and depressed pets has severely contributed to our mutual embarrassment, so I propose to rectify this in a manner that can only add to our stature.

Your pedantic memory will no doubt supply the year I loosely refer to as many moons ago, wherein I had bought for you a pair of sterling silver cuff links etched with the rousing call of VENI, VIDI, VICI. My abstract brain does recall your delight and triumphant tourings with those links. However, all good this must come to an end, and as I consoled you at the untimely demise of one of them, your affection for the other remained touching. Since then, much has transpired, and many more gifts (particularly electronic in nature) have died in your hands. Which is why, when I chanced upon the same scrumptious pair elsewhere, I prudently gifted them to myself.

Ahem. I have a confession to make. I took them for a walk last week, and after a flurry of surprise greetings at Berkeley Square, I realised that one of them had cunningly managed to disengage itself from my right cuff and make a run for it! To say I was most distressed would be a gross understatement. I felt deeply aggrieved. Mostly in anticipation of, ‘How the fuck can cuff links just fall off??? I’ve been wearing them for years, and they’ve never fallen off!!’. My innate wisdom tells me this is true. I have yet to meet a man who has lost a cuff link en route. I cringe at the ‘God, it must be a woman’ look, and prepare my meekly downcast eyes look. I don’t know!!!!! It was fine when I left work…. then maybe it just got bored! I can’t explain it, suffice to say it’s GONE! I have now come, seen and conquered in a most half hearted fashion.

So. Unless you have managed to misplace your half of Caesar, logic states, you have one of the same pair that I’m missing. Ergo, finally, a perfect opportunity for us to haggle over joint custody of property, goods and chattel. Given that double cuffs really aren’t doctoral guise, and my boots are so much more conducive to striding around in a superiorly conquering manner, I do believe I will open with a ‘hand ‘em over…’

Your turn.

Thanking you,

Yours sincerely,

BtB