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I haven’t been a good wife tonight.

I got angry at the bloke and told him to fuck off before yelling at him so loud I scared the neighbours out of their kitchen (their window looks directly into ours). Lord knows he deserved itI have the worst temper ever which is why I married someone like the bloke – he hardly ever loses it and forgets about fights 1 minute after they happen.  Often I’ll say things like “You remember that fight we had when you were being an arsehole and I threw the Artline texta at your head and it ricocheted off the wall and disappeared, only for me to discover it 6 weeks later melted inside the toaster with crumbs from the 42 slices of bread I had toasted in there since it’s landing embedded in it? And he’ll say “No. I don’t remember the bad times.” This may seem loyal and loving, but I actually think it’s down to his bad memory.

Today, I visited a friend who just had a baby 5 weeks ago. She is married to an idiot. Even my Mum, one of the nicest people in the world, full of diplomatic thoughts about dumb, stupid, idiotic, arrogant, rude and miserable people can’t bear him. People at my wedding asked who the hell he was and watching their jaw hit the floor after I pointed to my sparkling and wonderful friend and said “Her husband” confirmed my beliefs. The man is a cock-smoker. A knob-jockey. A foolish fuck stick. An insensitive and arrogant man with low self esteem. A seething mass of contradictions.

The new baby has been losing weight steadily since birth and my friend has had a lot of trouble feeding him. When I spoke to her this morning she had been having appointment after appointment with baby specialists and Doctors, and finally his problem had been discovered. My friend must sit down and feed feed feed and feed some more. Special formula to combine with his breast milk. A little tongue, previously badly tied and now snipped needs time to heal and learn how to suckle. My friend arrives home, exhausted, with a screaming baby who wants a fresh nappy and a feed. Amongst all the screaming, the dried blood being cleaned off the chin and the terrible case of nappy rash being discovered, the husband berates my friend for not thanking him for vacuuming! Nothing he does is appreciated! He doesn’t know why he bothers!

Is he jealous of the new baby? No. He’s always been like this. I listen to all this and marvel at how little the stories have changed about him and his behaviour in the past decade. I help her do the things her husband should do – grocery shopping, hanging out washing, putting away clothes. I leave and come home to a husband I don’t always appreciate.

It was a stupid fight about a dirty kitchen. It ended with me throwing a snotty tissue at him I found in my pocket, and when he said “Oh, no, I’ll pick it up your dirty tissues, just like I always do!” I walked towards him with a soft and loving look, gazed deep into his lovely green eyes, took his hand holding the snotty tissue in it and crushed it shut hard. And said “I want you to really feelthat snotty tissue…” He burst out laughing, as did I, and all was forgotten. I apologised about the fuck you and the yelling, he forgot about it.

I have married the best and patient of men. I never want to end up in a marriage like my friend. Neither of them have any respect for each other. The problem I have is that I don’t stop often enough to appreciate the bloke. And that is something I want to change before I end up miserable and cranky.

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