Following on from yesterday’s idiotic display, now I’m a ‘fuckwit’ apparently. Here goes the story:
I didn’t mention anything about the crap from yesterday besides, calmly, telling her that she either needs to change the appointment or go by herself. I think that put her back up a little bit but that was yesterday and was swiftly forgotten about. This morning I got up with the boy so she could have a lie in and at about 11 am we went to wake her up. All was well. I even cooked bacon and eggs for breakfast for us both then we got dressed, got Thomas ready, and decided to take a walk into town.
We got maybe 20 yards before I turned back. I’m not going to spend time with someone who refers to me as a fuckwit.
She says, offering me her right thumb knuckle, ‘Little cuts like this bleed like hell’. There was a little cut on her knuckle. I glance at it then back down at my Son in his pram. ‘Got blood everywhere’, she continues, ‘like a volcano.’
‘Right.’ I say, realising that she is trying to illicit a response from me. ‘I see.’ My mind had been elsewhere. I was thinking about something else as us guys have a habit of doing.
‘Oh, so you were listening.
‘Of course I was listening.’
‘Well, it would have been nice to get an answer!’ Her tone is off.
She’s baiting me! I can believe it! I’ll take that bait. ‘If you want an answer, you should ask a question.’
‘I did.’
‘No you didn’t, you made a statement.’
‘It was a question.’
‘”Little cuts bleed like hell” is not a question, it’s a statement. If you had posed a question I would have realised an answer was required and given you one.’
‘You can be such a fuckwit sometimes.’
I stopped and turned to her, ‘You can go into town yourself’.
