Mr Hundrum and I had words this weekend. About me feeling crap all last week and having to cope, before I stamped my feet in Sunday and spent the afternoon in bed.
I asked him: "Are you not interested in me being ill, not sympathetic or do you think I'm putting it on?"
He replied "I'm not a very thoughtful person." Now this isn't entirely true. Who bought me a new Touche Éclat when mine was running out?
But I can see what he means. It's easier not to be thoughtful when that would mean taking control of the Boy and the household. Let's just pretend she's alright really. Or that she will be better in the morning.
So instead of mumming-up and making myself even more ill, I shall spell it out for Mr Humdrum.
I. A. M. I. L. L.
I. N. E. E. D. T. O. G. O. T. O. B. E. D.