Argh! Domestic troubles...

Harumph.

Husband does not know when a comment is just a comment and not a veiled threat. Unlike 99% of women in the UK, I say what I mean. I don't beat about the bush. I don't faff about with anyone and most of all, I couldn't care less what people think about what I say. I try not to hurt anyone or say anything nasty.

The result is that my Husband seems to take innocent comments to heart.

"We've got a response from Andrew & Belinda on couchsurfing. com They can make it to meet us next Sunday and come over for supper. Shall I respond? Oh, yes, they're arriving by car so I think some directions might be useful."

Husband, like every red-blooded male driver on the planet, thinks he has a personal sat-nav embedded in his brain and therefore can't really see the point.

"The directions are in a file.. if you scroll down to the bottom you can click on that option."

"Husband, the directions are for pedestrians, not drivers. "

I started writing a response to Andrew & Belinda, and looking up directions to get to Glasgow from where they were driving from. And then I realised that I wouldn't be the best to give them directions since I don't drive. But asking Husband a direct answer to a direct question is like peeling a pumpkin: the answer is huge, messy and spilling with seeds of a thousand arguments.

He could have said, of course, "Let *me* respond to them at a later date... right now I cannot think of the best way to help them."

But no, he gets into a huff and frantically types on his laptop some directions in the CS directions file, because he "does what he is told."

This really riles me. I don't tell Husband what to do - unless it's housework and I'm at the end of the rope as far as exhaustion and housework is concerned. And even there, I'll be flexible enough to tell him "Look, it doesn't have to be done now... just before the wee starts so that I'm not left with a mess to clean before the cleaners get here to do the basic stuff..."

BTW, that *was* Monster-In-Law who called earlier. The phone rang again in the middle of one of our arguments.

"Hello!" she trilled, "Were you out shopping?"

"No. "

"I rang earlier."

"I didn't have time to pick it up. I was cleaning the flat."

"Oh."



"So ... anything strange happen?"

"No, no news here. Did you want to speak with Husband?"

"Yes."