Im fifty-seven now, and honestly, I can hardly believe where the years have gone. Ive been married to my husband for over thirty years, and all that time Ive done his laundry, cooked his dinner every night, kept the house cosyjust your typical British family life, really. Weve got two kids, both grown up now, and I pretty much raised and educated them myself, making sure they had everything they needed, just like their friends at school.
Through our whole marriage, my husband never really put much effort into working. Once he hit retirement, he parked himself at home and completely stopped working. Meanwhile, Im still heading off to work, helping our children with their own kids, and running the whole house.
Ive asked him more times than I can count to get a jobeven if its just as a night watchman somewherebut he reckons we manage just fine without his extra income. And hes certainly not wasting his time! I can barely squeeze dinner in most days. Its so typicalsometimes I get home shattered after work, and hes eaten all the best bits and left me the rest, usually just soup.
I was chatting to a friend about it one day, and she suggested I start cooking separately: make his meals with bargain ingredients, and keep the better stuff for myself. So, when I got home, I told my husband that the doctor said I have to go on a special diet, and therefore, he shouldnt touch my food.
Now, I hide the treats in the cabinet, and whenever he pops down to the shed, I sneak a cup of tea and a few biscuits. The posh cheese and sausages get tucked away at the back of the fridge, and I munch on them when hes not paying attention. Luckily, weve got two fridgesone for normal groceries and another for all my jars of homemade pickles, and its in there I stash all the good stuff.
You know what men are likethey cant see anything unless its right in front of them. I get proper turkey breast for myself and make it into steamed patties, but with the pork nearing its expiry date, I chuck in some spices and he never notices. I buy him cheap pasta from Tesco, barely costs anything, but I treat myself to pasta made from finest durum wheat.
Honestly, I dont think Im doing anything wrong. If he wants to eat nice things, he should just go out and get a job rather than lounging about all day. At our age, divorcing seems sillymost of our lives are behind us, the house is ours together, and I cant see the point in selling it and splitting the money. So, I quietly carry on, making sure I get to enjoy some treats now and then.
