Husband vowed that he wasnt going to speak to me last night but he had to in the end. I think Ive got hypothermia.
Wife, you dont have hypothermia, youre a just a bit cold because you were being mental in the garden wearing your fucking wedding dress.
A quick Google of the symptoms confirms that yes, I have hypothermia.
Youre shivering because youre still wearing your wedding dress and your extremities arent turning blue, youve painted your bloody toe and fingernails turquoise.
This is beside the point. I have pins and needles and Im woozy. I fear the end is near.
Maybe if you went and changed instead of standing there like Miss Havisham youd feel better.
The similarity is uncanny; its 20 to nine and Ive spent all day training the dog to hate men. Hes probably right about the getting changed thing though, but Alas! I am too weak. Better to have a rest on the kitchen floor instead, I decide.
Babe, get up, youre dripping everywhere. he says, stepping over me.
Woe- I can barely hear you speak, Husband; my energies are concentrated upon staying away from the light. Each word is a struggle for me.
Wife, your veil is stuck to your ears and the light is from the fridge, Im making dinner. Get up.
Hmm. I am hungry; no doubt a side effect from the hypothermia.
Why are you so dramatic? Is this about that Gin thing?
So he admits it then, eh?
My dearest Husband, oh my weary love, I am in much psychic pain- I am finding it troublesome trying to come to terms with your infidelity... And Im not fucking dramatic.
How are you not dramatic? Ive come home tonight to find my wife bobbing in the paddling pool in her wedding dress with our first dance song blasting from the conservatory. And now youre trying to speak all Dickensy- How is that not dramatic???
You lack the tools to understand the complexities of my wounded heart... I say, eyes rolling as death nears.
When I emerge from my brush with death and see that hes ignoring me and chopping tomatoes I decide to be the bigger person.
Husband is clearly ashamed of his recent indiscretion and his refusal to pander to me is obviously because he feels so guilty.
Plus, I really am fucking freezing. I head upstairs to change. After screaming for nearly3 whole minutes Husband is eventually there like a flash. He doesn't seem concerned by my distress and suggests that my skull isnt actually bleeding and that perhaps the blood is seepage from my latest home hair dye attempt. Im not convinced.
Over dinner, he brings up Gin. I tell him that Im not ready to hear him speak the name of that slag pasty and clutch my heart to indicate that it still hurts.
Slag pasty?
I cant answer as unfortunately I seem to have fainted.
You said slag pasty? Gin the slag pasty? As in Ginsters pasty? he thinks he's fucking Columbo.
Did I? I cant recall; my memorys patchy which is probably due to the hypothermia or the bleeding skull .
Are you telling me that youve been accusing me of cheating and floating in the paddling pool in your wedding dress because I ate a steak bake? he asks.
Betrayal is betrayal flowerpot, you made me be a vegetarian so in your face. I reply.
Oh my fucking God. Firstly, the vegetarianism was your idea. Secondly, I only ate meat in work because I found a 4 pack of Peperami behind the DVDs and some wafer thin ham under the sofa on day 1 of usbeing veggie! I was playing you at your own game. he's riled.
I have no idea how they got there and I resent the accusation.
Hes gone a bit red and hes speaking quite loudly, it looks like Husband might be about to break...
Youre mad, babe, I love you. He says, finally.
What? Thats it? Ive caught hypothermia and told my mother hes cheated on me and thats it?
This is what really gets on my tits about Husband. Doesnt matter what I do, how I do it, how mental I act- hes never any closer to breaking than when I first married him. Sometimes I dont know why I bother.
Husband went to bed happy, his patience had miraculously rejuvenated. He even attacked the bedtime challenges with renewed vigour, throwing a new move- the figure of 8- into the naked cock dance recital.
As I watched Husband hum the theme tune to Neighbours and perform the helicopter, his willy wind-milling furiously like the hands on Jodie Marshs body clock, I realised that Im going to have to try harder to break him. I think its time to buy a video camera, don't you?
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Ha ha, totally worth it Margo, it's the funniest thing I've seen in a long time. Loved your interview btw, did leave you a comment. Ceri- watch this space, Husband's in trouble.
A classic episode....just keeps getting better... You lack the tools to understand the complexities of my wounded heart' is a line I will memorize and quote some day. Big thumbs up for the camera idea. Endless possibilities there