Living With Boys

It has been 5 months, since I packed up my collection of beauty products and moved lock, stock and moisturising mask to The Chap’s house.

Life has remain pretty smooth, no arguments just the odd mood as I take offense at an imagined slight. Woe betide the boyfriend who doesn’t state “That was Deeee-licious!” after I emerge with a culinary delight every evening.

However, the odd situation does throw me for six as I contemplate the best way of tackling it.

Last night was a case in point.

I knew the day was probably going to be a disaster after I accidently managed to spray my hair with furniture polish and not hairspray as I was getting ready in the morning. God darn Tesco and their similarly festooned aerosols!

Yesterday evening, I had dinner booked with the girls from book club. It really is an excuse now to meet up every 2months for a good chin wag. We have even given up the pretence of actually reading a book and normally sit for 2 hours talking about partners, babies, jobs and last night weirdly washing. (??)

I always enjoy my evening out and last night was no exception. I chomped my way through a sticky chilli chicken salad and then rounded up my feast with a chocolate sponge pudding. All the while feeling vaguely guilty about the email I had hurriedly sent to The Chap during the day reminding I would not be home until late and there was frozen pizza and / or frozen scampi and baked beans in the cupboard. I do not know what he ended up eating and have not asked as I am guessing it was a 6 pack of Wheat Crunchies.

On the drive home from our feast, my stomach stated clenching and knotting, and by the time I got home the inside of the car had a faintly green atmosphere from the gaseous emissions.

By the time I walked through the door, I had to dash upstairs and proceeded to lock myself in the bathroom for 10 minutes, hoping that the noxious aromas would shortly pass. Twinkle who had snuck in with me, by this point was clawing at the door probably contemplating using a loofer in a desperate bid to dig a tunnel to freedom.

No change, my abdomen was tying itself up and the wind kept coming and Boy! if the instigator finds it most offensive then you know it could probably strip paint from steel.

Luckily, I found an old box of Buscopan, which is specifically for abdominal cramps, and took one ignoring the Best Before of 2011.

20 minutes and a hot shower later, I snuck into the lounge in attractive pair of pjs teamed with some thick bed socks and a dressing gown … buttocks clenched.

The Cats were studiously avoiding eye contact and I am sure Belle was sniggering!

I really could have done with an arthritic camel with a love of picked onions to blame it all on.

I casually mentioned my dinner was not agreeing with me whilst watching Game of Thrones, but as always TC was much more interested in discovering which Stark / Lannister (delete as appropriate) was going to murder whom and how.

Why do I feel the need to hide my flatulence, which really was the result of a dodgy dish, whilst The Chap thinks nothing of where we are and lets rip?

My feminine allure remains intact for another 24 hours..

Frugally yours

Abigail

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