for context, the evening routine typically involves DH arriving with recently collected DS. DS is ND and has been trying to cope with school/ childcare till this time and therefore on arrival is in burnout and can’t even be spoken to,
’Hi DS how was today? Was it nice to see your friends?’
’shut up silly cunt, don’t talk to me’.
extreme but actual conversation this evening. Often he’ll simply ignore me completely.
DH and I exchange greetings and then he pops to the kitchen to grab a beer and sits and watches crap loudly on his phone to decompress.
DS by now has taken over the only reception room with some awful repetitive shit he likes on YouTube which is basically the ground floor claimed. So when my long awaited meal pings for my attention in the air fryer I plate it up, with my condiments and salad and fuck off upstairs to my little study to watch something on my computer and eat it in peace.
note: DS is on a very restricted diet and doesn’t eat anything remotely appetising or ‘proper meal like’ and will eat some bread and butter at most after being fed at carers on the days he’s there.
DH and I are from different planets with food so we never eat together anyway.
so either way I eat alone. After my meal I then take over the fucking pantomime of trying to get DS ready for bed and settle him- this may go on till way past midnight so I definitely need some energy first.
With my first kids I always did the normal ‘round the table’ mealtimes and they do the same as adults for my grandkids so I can cook family dishes and I’m not lazy but there is no need for it now. Plus I work all day too and have a chronic illness and also don’t want a fight with DS over having Minecraft at 80000 decibels either.
I do however, deeply miss evenings in which those I love actually communicate and eat together but under the circumstances should I feel guilty? Would you do the same?
I sort of feel a bit odd sat here like a stroppy teenager eating in their bedroom.