Attention To Detail

I was hanging washing out by the back door when a car came down the lane. The woman driving slowed down when she saw me, and thinking she wanted eggs, I half waved and turned to pick up a half dozen from the kitchen window-ledge.
The woman had been sent down the lane by her sat nav and as chance would have it, she turned out to be a former colleague from years ago.
We chatted for a moment before she had second thoughts about the eggs and asked for a mixture of duck and hen's. As I collected them she got out of the car, and stood in the doorway chatting about work and before she tucked the cartons under her arm she spied a small glass vase on the side , in which I had placed a single purple primula flower.

She pointed to the flower and cooed

" you can always  tell a gay man's house from any other"  she trilled "it's the attention to detail"

She fingered the flower

Isn't that just lovely!........beautiful!" 

She whirled around , all excited at the sight of our gingham green kitchen tablecloth and the other vase of daffodils that sat on top of it and stopped dead at the sight of Winifred squeezing out a massive wet turd onto the centre of the patio

To keep the gay stereotypes going........I couldn't resist a loud 

"TA-DAAAAAAA!" as Winnie finished in a flourish