Rugby season has started, so my husband took our son at 9am to catch the bus to the match that my son is playing in. He mentioned wanting a “few” drinks afterwards, and I thought, fair enough. At 1pm I picked up our son, even though I wasn’t feeling well. I asked my husband how long he planned to be out, and he said a couple of hours. I added, “You’re not going to be drinking until 5pm, are you?” and he swore he wouldn’t. Fast forward to now and there is still no sign of him.
I know I’m unwell, but I could have hung out on the sofa with him. I can’t help feeling a bit sad and resentful that my husband has chosen to spend the afternoon elsewhere with others. This wasn’t a big gang of Dads/husbands, just one or two, mine included, who like a drink and who he would have seen at the mid week at the training session. (So no big catch up.) And now, with rugby season underway, I suppose this kind of thing will be happening regularly until May of next year.