Baby, it's cold outside...

So normal service resumed yesterday morning after my day in bed nursing my head.  By normal, I mean getting up at silly o'clock, even before the birds.  Here's how the first five minutes go :

Put dressing gown on
Go downstairs
Remove dressing gown
Flap around wildly on patio trying to cool down from major hottie (I'd like to point out that this is not a new nickname for the husband)
Cool down
Cool down further
Put dressing gown back on
Cool down even more
Rush inside to find socks as feet now freezing
Sit down at computer
Remove dressing gown etc etc

It's a wonder I manage to do anything in the morning, I'll be honest with you, but it's the time I tweak the blog before publishing, chat to any lovely American ladies who are reading it online, and generally catch up on what's been happening overnight.

You're probably waiting for me to tell you all about the lovely television lady who came to check me out this week.  It was all going rather well, until daughter number two and son number two tipped up.  Daughter number one refused to be filmed without a full Hollywood makeover, and by the time she returned, all blushed and pouty, the lady was beginning to lose the will to live.  Daughter number two was very sweet about my current situation, saying how forgetful I was, and that I never seemed to sleep anymore (Even Dracula slept didn't he?)  Son number two was more interested in pimping himself for Love Island next year and flirting with the lovely lady.  I put this down to the fact that she brought Maltesers with her.  Chocolate works every time with him.

But if this was bad, it was nothing to what happened when the husband pitched up.  He was in full building site work-wear, and plonked himself down next to me for the filming.  I had already spoken in length about my menopause symptoms, and how I thought it had started around eight months ago.  Did the husband agree with this?  Like hell he did...

'I know she says it's only been eight months or so, but I disagree.  Me and the kids have had to put up with extreme OCD with regard to this house, and sometimes it's like she's not in the room with us, like she's taken herself off somewhere.  And there's been mood swings, and sometimes she can be a bit short with us. I reckon this has been going on for at least two years'.


The lovely television lady even had to press the pause button as the silence stretched.  It was all rather awkward.

I only had to wait an hour before she left, before softly saying to him..


Last time I saw him, he was removing anything with a sharp blade from the kitchen drawers and locking it away in the glove compartment of his truck.

Fear is a good thing in a marriage, don't you think?


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