on boys, and the retardation that gums their brains
So, having moved into our First Home over the last weekend, it's struck me (on more than one occasion funnily enough) that The Carpenter has picked me because I make his life easy.
Given we're now ensconced in the new house, this erks me a lot. Mostly because I still have to work during the day and he's at home all day on his own as The Little One is in daycare.
He did the dishes today and was very proud of himself. But no unpacking, no shifting of things, no "hey, I know, I'll take initiative and settle things into this house of OURS myself!", no, no, no. He's far too busy drinking wine, and being TIRED. Fuck face.
Dear Boys,
Don't be retarded anymore. It makes me cross.
Love,
Me.
Given we're now ensconced in the new house, this erks me a lot. Mostly because I still have to work during the day and he's at home all day on his own as The Little One is in daycare.
He did the dishes today and was very proud of himself. But no unpacking, no shifting of things, no "hey, I know, I'll take initiative and settle things into this house of OURS myself!", no, no, no. He's far too busy drinking wine, and being TIRED. Fuck face.
Dear Boys,
Don't be retarded anymore. It makes me cross.
Love,
Me.