A couple of vegetables

It’s Sunday morning at 11am and the Drudester is refusing to get his arse out of bed. He has insisted on lying around watching an enthralling programme about nerds and old people and their gardens. Ho hum.
The interviewees are (slowly) explaining the unparralelled delights of parsnips and rhubarb. I think. I can’t quite understand either because their accents are thicker than their coke-bottle glasses or because their dentures keep slipping out and getting tangled up in their words.
One old man was saying “I’ve been planting potatoes for 50 years. In 1967 I planted pink eyes, but then in 1972 I started planting green eyes. In 1985 I tried brown eyes, but the drought wiped them out. So in 1996 I planted yellow with purple spots eyes, but they didn’t grow so well ‘cos of the locust plague and the wrath of god”.
Uh huh. Really? Fascinating. Snore.
Another old dear was explaining how she uses her carrots. “I use them in stews mainly. Sometimes I boil them and sometimes I even steam them. And occasionally I use them as dildos”.
Ok, maybe I made that last bit up.
Finally, after many polite, eloquent and reasonable requests from me (which may, or may not have included me accusing the Drudester of being an old fart) the Drudester wounded me deeply by likened me to an old bag. He then gave me a charming view of his hairy white backside as he changed the TV channel. We are now watching a fascinating religious current affairs program (no, unfortunately I didn’t make that one up).
I’ve decided to leave the Drudester in bed watching old-people TV. I’m off to the kitchen to find the carrots …