All Wrong

Monday morning...

...alarm goes, mrs househusbandnot puts alarm on snooze, alarm goes again, mrs hhn puts alarm on snooze again, alarm goes, mrs hhn puts it on snooze, some other electronic device starts peeping after every 10 minute interval of alarm going off and being put onto snooze by mrs hhn. This continues for approx two hours, as I drag myself into Monday morning mode, with some satisfaction that I am not alone in this journey, and that mrs hhn will shortly be joining me as I prepare for the new week.

mrs hhn: "I'm not feeling well. I'm not going in to work today".

All wrong. All wrong. Unfair.

But then I have to remind myself of those many, many, many mornings when I was a true househusbandnot, and mrs hhn had to get up and go to work with me still holed up under the duvet refusing to take part in the real world on any sort of level.

But it is still wrong. Weren't we supposed to be doing everything together? For richer for poorer. In going to work and not going to work. (Actually, we had a civil marriage, so we didn't do those vows, but you know what I mean.)

So I goof around some more, and try and disturb mrs hhn from her slumber. And generally complain about me having to go out into the real world. And go to work. And...brood, thinking about all that fun mrs hhn is having at home as I sit at work. Is she playing on my Xbox? Is she playing my guitar? Is she trying on my clothes? Is she making herself fishfinger sandwiches? She certainly isn't out here in office world doing office stuff, which never involves Xboxes or guitars or fishfinger sandwiches.