This week, since last friday, ive been poorly. Even though ive worked at home, after work ive grabbed the kids, gone supermarket and then got into bed as ive felt dreadful. On reflection i should have called in sick. Anyway, i made a comment last night to DH re how little he had done in the evenings. Literally the house was a bombsite. Every plate, cup, fork used and waiting to be washed up. It was more of a joke tbh but he just blew up and went mental. Called me a fucking stupid bitch, fucking slag/slut. How dare i say hes done nothing - hes been work all week dont you know! Told me not to go into the living room where he was because i was a fucking bitch And i can fuck right off!
a bit of background, he comes in from work, sits drinking and formulates a dinner from whatever weve got in, which is usually served around 930pm
is it me? I just cant believe how much he went mental