Somedays it's best to say nowt. When it's another anniversary, and he hasn't said a word, and you don't want to be one of those women who makes a fuss. And you know it's not that he's bad, it's just one of those things. So you move his shoes from the foot of the stairs, change the bog roll you didn't use the last of (and make a mental note that this is the 52nd time you've done this this year.) Tomorrow will be better, because the fact is there isn't much different about today, other than today is the day it bugs you. Today you can't help but think of those guys who noticed you existed when you were young and 4 stone smaller, the ones you dumped for having breath like toffee apples or always having a faint aroma of maths books. And you can't help thinking when did I lose it? When did I become a woman who picks up the shoes? Is this karma? What's so wrong with toffee apples anyway?
3 comments:
hah! what was REALLY SCARY for me this year was that I FORGOT but my husband BOUGHT FLOWERS on our anniversary and we have been married 31 years and he NEVER BOUGHT FLOWERS BEFORE EVER. I think I have begun to live in some Stephen Kingesque village where everybody is gradully replaced by aliens or the ghosts of dead pets.
I think I'd ber freaked too, after 31 years you think you know what to expect. Sounds like some kinda bidysnatchers situation. Or he's after summat (aren't we ladies suspicious? They cannot win!)
I assume it was a typo but I like the idea of biddy snatchers- aliens that go around whisking away post-menopausal women. Hope you got my e mail btw, gremlins appear to be in the system.
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