“Come here and look at this”, he shouts from the bedroom.

I have just left the room to do something and, in fact, may be in the middle of doing that very thing.

Like last night.

And then this morning.

Last night I was setting my coffee maker for this morning to ensure I had my huge mug of cappuccino ready to help me feel ‘alive’.

This morning it was as I was switching off the computer and putting everything back in place for my cleaner.

Last night, on hearing the call, I muttered something along the lines of “What the fuck now?” and tried to ignore it. Of course, ignoring it is NOT an option. “Andy, come and have a look”, is the different shout. I’ll go in a minute, I think, as I take the coffee out of the fridge to fill up.

“Andy!” I start filling the coffee container of the machine. “Andy?”. It’s no good. It cannot be ignored.

Clutching the tin of coffee and the scoop used to fill the small container of the machine I go into the bedroom. In my head, I am stomping into the bedroom. In reality I am just walking. I wonder if my carrying of the tin and the scoop will ‘say’ anything to him – even if I know it won’t. I make some sort of sound when I see what I’ve come to see and go back to doing the coffee. I suppose the ‘some sort of sound’ could be misinterpreted as an OK. But that would be a misinterpretation. the correct interpretation would be more on the lines of “this was NOT worth me coming all this way for”. I feel sure it’s seen as OK.

This morning, when the same sort of thing happened, I said, out loud, but to myself “I do love you but sometimes…….”

Of course, when I say ‘out loud’ I don’t mean anywhere near loud enough for him to hear! In fact, I could barely hear it myself!

Still, I can’t be annoyed for long.

Except sometimes when he does this thing more than once, each time waiting a few moments after I have disappeared from view. That makes me go grrrrrr more than once and, therefore, for longer.

Thank goodness we don’t live in a larger house