Right...that does it. I'm going to get a quickie divorce.
Himself can be a miserable old git when he chooses to be and he's gone down that path this afternoon with a feckin' vengeance...first it was the light bulb. The one in the overhead light in the sitting room...that one. It died. So Himself found another one in the drawer I never dare go into 'cos it's just too scary. He replaced the bulb. And I couldn't see a feckin thing. Could barely see my hand in front of my face actually. So I said...this bulb is awful. He said it was the same wattage as the one he took out. I said it certainly wasn't. So he put that face on. The 'I know you're right but I'll be dammed if I'm going to say so' that face.
So I made a bit of a song and a dance and he said he'd take the bulb out of my shed then. And I said if he did that he'd have to replace it tomorrow...or else.
He took the bulb out of my shed and put it in the sitting room and lo and behold...we can see again! So I said...'can you tell the difference now?' He said he couldn't actually...it was fine the way it was.
Then he moved the mousetrap. He was fiddling about in the kitchen and the trap kept snapping and I said 'what are you doing with the mouse trap?' and he said he was moving it because I'd put it in the wrong place. I said that's where the mice get caught the most and he said they didn't at all...they get caught on the other windowsill and I said what about that enormous mouse? That's different he said.
So I said did he mean I'm incapable of setting a mousetrap and he made a sort of harrumphing noise and went out to feed the dogs. And left the back door wide open when there's me and my chest to think of.
And he drove into town with a car boot full of stinking dog and cat food tins and forgot to put them in the recycling thingy so now they'll smell even more foul and I'll have to have the car window wide open...with my bad chest. And he keeps reading bits out about the news and so on when I trying to concentrate on something important and I read the same sentence a million times and it still doesn't sink in and then he goes to YouTube and plays something foul from the Fifties and there's me trying to feckin write!
When he's doing a crossword he asks me how to spell some totally obscure word and I say look in the dictionary and he says he thought I'd know and I say 'well I don't' and then I give in and say how many letters have you got and give him the answer quick as you like and then he spells it carefully...out loud...very slowly.
And last week when I went grocery shopping he 'helped' to pack the bags and put frozen food in with the fresh bread and washing powder on top of the yoghurts and I was whipping them out of the bags and putting them in the right ones and it all took ten times as long as usual and then he stood back and watched me struggle with the trolley while he carried a small bag of carrots...
I think unreasonable behaviour ought to cover it...