Last night, T spoke to the children on Skype. Normally this is little more than an obligatory annoyance for me these days. I sigh with relief when it’s over and life resumes until the next time.
But last night, he was cooking pasta for his and the New Ms T’s dinner, and we were subjected to 5 excruciating minutes of their Domestic Show. Where the New Ms T, even though she was off-screen, kept making her presence felt, asking to try out the pasta (I actually gagged when he fed her the pasta), or other crucial questions such as where she should put down a pan.
In the grand scheme of things, this incident is obviously mundane and ridiculous, but nevertheless it got my blood boiling harder than the water in their pan.
How hollow did his declarations of how much he loves and misses the children ring! And how I itched to
slap the smile off his smug face remind him that a year ago, he was cooking pasta for four in our kitchen, wanting to produce a fifth family member with me.
I am now the proud owner of a naff-off great big zoom lense for my camera, and a few cute little numbers -including this lovely wool dress- which happened to cross my way. This turned out to be the most expensive pasta ever, but I feel better and am clothed for winter…