RICHARD ORD: Sex sells! It’s even cleaning up in the kitchen

In much the same way as I have never picked up an apple from the fruit bowl without first flipping it up in the air several times as if I’m about to bowl a googly to Sachin Tendulkar in bid to break a frustrating partnership, so it is that I rarely pick up a slotted spoon without hooking an imaginary bouncer for six. Take that Mr Holding.

Perhaps a spatula could bring them closer?

God, I miss cricket.

As bizarre as these actions may seem to non-cricket lovers, at least, I can safely say that I’ve never scoured the kitchen drawers for something to pep up my sex life. Real or imagined. Seems, I’m in the minority. According a poll that landed in my emails today, people are quite happy to rummage around in the cutlery drawer before they go rummaging around in bed with their lover.

Can you guess what the most common kitchen implement is transported (I assume, breathlessly) to the bedroom?

The spatula!

A whopping (isn’t it always) 89% of respondents in this survey admitted to smuggling the cookery instrument under the covers.

Actually, I suggested they ‘smuggled’ it in there. Anyone who considers the spatula to have aphrodisiacal properties is probably brazen enough to wield it like Excalibur on entering a lady’s boudoir.

It did, however, get me thinking.

It got me thinking how bored I’v e become with the relentless dullness of lockdown.

So much so that to fill this column I leapt on a clearly made-up survey produced by an equally bored PR company worker to promote a service in desperate need of publicity.

Do you know what company was being promoted? A domestic cleaning company!

I get that sex sells, but there’s a little too much mental acrobatics required to join the dots between common kitchen utensils, sexual intercourse and domestic cleaning services.

Or maybe that’s just me. After all, I don’t own a spatula. I do however have in my kitchen cutlery drawer a battery-operated milk frother…

That may get the 89% of spatula lovers frothing at the mouth, but I wager if I were to present the device to my other half with a knowing wink, I’d be told, in no uncertain terms, to “make your own coffee.”

Maybe I need get out more. Then again, don’t we all?