Every Saturday and Sunday he has a lie in, and usually takes himself off to bed in the afternoon or early evening. When he comes home from work, he takes himself off for a nap when I get in (NB, I commute to London, he works 2 minutes down the road).
I am getting tired (excuse the pun) of it. It is like being married to a fucking sloth. I feel like that Duracell bunny that just keeps on drumming when the others conk out.
And I am knackered.