Saturday alone

Warning: rant ahead

Today didn’t start very well.
Hubby has a problem with his Garmin watch so I’ve been sorting it for him.  Left it on the coffee table for him to literally sellotape and put the label on (I prepared everything).  He’s taking his time getting ready (I thought he must be changing the bed as I asked him to help with it).  In the mean time I do a load of washing, hang it out and eat breakfast.
To find him laying on the bed playing on his phone “I was looking at baby stuff”.

Fine. whatever.

His plan for the day was to go to a beer festival in Lincoln, so a 2 hr train so I asked him to do just a few things I can’t do right now as I still have nausea and a lot of back ache.  I asked him to change the bed, take rubbish out and clean out Bruce’s litter tray.

So we go food shopping. My back hurts a lot and he knows this.  We get back and have lunch.  Sitting on the sofa (1.30pm) and he decides to check the time of the  trains… The train he wants to catch leaves in 30 mins.

Queue him rushing around.  The bins are emptied.  He says “you can make the bed?” … Well no actually I can’t.  I feel weak and my back hurts.  The threat of asking my mum to come over and help me with it resulted in him getting stressy and doing it in a huff.

He then wonders why I got annoyed at him as Bruce’s litter tray hasn’t been cleaned out.

So he’s disappeared off to Lincoln and I’m at home with the cat.

I donned my plastic gloves and at least got rid of as much poo as I could even if its not a perfect clean.

Will he be like this with his child? Running late to meet a friend but baby has done a poo… Oh well they’re wearing a nappy, it’ll be fine…

Gah.

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