Okay. I freely admit that I like my wine. Champagne, even better! But it makes it difficult when you live with a tea tootling wowser. He is never going to get smashed and fall on his arse. I’m never going to be able to be snooty with him because he made an arse of himself. But hey; to each their own. I have my own cross to bear in the form of the Harridan, the stolen tent, the school fees, the maintenance – the list goes on.
In the scheme of things, if he has to pull me up from the floor when I’ve missed a chair wearing satin dress and hat; well too freaking bad. Because I put up with so much more than that; and not just once a month, either!
The art of dating when you are in your 40’s is a perilous, soul destroying mission. I blame my misfortune with men on the 'fairy tale factor'... That never ending belief that love conquers all and that one day a prince will come. Reality isn't even close to the fairy tale. Especially when the prince doesn’t just come with baggage – he comes with a bitter, money grubbing ex-wife clinging to his back like a hump.
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Thanks. Better check it out but it should be up today!