how did I end up with a grumpy old man? a very strange grumpy old man. he shouts and whines and moans. he goes on about the state of the country, about parking, about a million tiny pointless things that only bother pensioners with too much time on their hands.

he is exactly like a really old cat. they might have been the sweetest cutest kitty in the world but at a certain age all cats just get all grumpy and tired of life. they like to sleep and if you disturb them or even just look at them funny they'll show you their claws or just turn away. sometimes you get a brief glimpse of the kitten they were but they soon enough go back to sleeping under a big dark cloud of grump. and there is nothing you can do to cheer the cat up for more that the shortest amount of time. they have had their fun, their life, all they want to do is curl up in the warm in piece.

maybe I should get him put down?

last night. hmmm. so I had decided to try bribing him with sexual favours to get him to be nice when he comes in the door. he always stomps in, says something nasty and puts me in a foul mood for the evening and then wonders what I'm so upset about. so I says lets try to pretend that as you seem to want me to be a 1950's housewife that you're the husband. how about you come it the door, you kiss me hello, you ask how my days was and at least pretend to listen to the answer? there is extra rudeness in it for you.

he liked the idea. he doesn't like to do anything unless there is some kind of reward somewhere so I often have to stoop to bribery.

almost got a kiss. sigh. fail.

then he demanded his dinner. even tho I'd been at work all day and then spent the rest of the evening wrestling a wild bab into bed. and it's his day to cook. fail.

eventually he brings up a bowl of cold pie we both made yesterday and that's his cooking duties done. when I cook I first clear the kitchen, stack and unstack the dishwasher, wipe surfaces, normal stuff, and make a whole meal. when he cooks he brings up a pile of leftovers and if I'm lucky a fork and makes more of a mess than I do cooking a roast.

brill.

okay, whatever, he 'cooked'. say thank you and eat cold pie.

on the telly is the big brother zombie thing. I've been looking forward to it for ages. I've been talking about it for ages. I've mentioned it twice this very evening.

it starts.

he says why don't you come to bed?

I say 'cause the program I have been looking forward to has just started.

and that's better than going to bed with your boyfriend is it?

yes. yes it really is. (I don't actually say this tho)

especially as when he goes into the bedroom there's a scream of rage.... there were some cups left onto of the clothes hamper. he's told me about it before you know.

and another scream of rage... my sock draw was left slightly open.

okay.

the TV is looking better and better.

why so angry? why so grumpy? why the need to shout and scream about teeny tiny things?

I could understand his wanting to keep the house nice a little more if it wasn't so incongruous with the demolition derby that is your half done DIY.

what's the point of you obsessively tidying draws, cupboards, shelves and the recycling bin when there's no floor/wall/ceiling and big holes which left drafts the strength of a mini hurricane through?

why would I feel inspired to tidy my sock draw when the garden is filled with a half finished shed and big pile of crap?

arggghhhh.

yes I accept that maybe it' s not all him, that I get grumpy too but for gods sake. how many times can a man get into such a rage over socks? or misplaced plates? he's gonna end up having a aneurism or a heart attack. just calm the fuck down you twat.

I'm gonna crumble up beta blockers and put them in his tea.

the things I hate most in the world are getting told off, getting told what to do and getting shouted out. well done me for my choice of life partner.

but it's my night off tonight. no little cat and no big grumpy cat. I miss the little one but my god it;s so nice not having anyone demanding anything from me for a night. and no grumps.

I shall be attaching cogs and electronic components to some beetles for a very goth shadowbox I'm making.

now there's a sentence you don't say everyday!