Day one
It’s day one and a bank holiday Monday.
The day is coming to an end. I’ll be serving up dinner in about an hour, and I’m listening to Peter Frampton singing ‘Baby, I love your way’ on Youtube.
It’s a day where nothing significant has happened. I don’t think I’ve done anything more Trad Wife than just being a partner. Maybe that’s the point. I’m not a stressy wreck talking about work, I’m listening, talking, and not adding any negativity. That’s probably a good thing.

The morning
The day started when my husband’s alarm went off at 7:30, usually when this happens I get annoyed. But now, if he wants to wake up early and make the most of the day, that’s what we’ll do.
I got up and grabbed a can of Monster for each of us. That’s not the most classy drink, maybe I should try and like green tea.
Our plans today were to meet my family at the beach at midday. So I thought I’d make some sausage rolls to bring down, that sounds like the right thing for Trad Wife to do.
While cooking I try to figure out what I should be doing to make my husband’s day as easy as possible.
I bought Just-rol, maybe I should have made puff pastry from scratch.
I almost never take the bins down, that’s something I can do. I took down the recycling, which is overflowing with bottles of sparkling water, prosecco and cans of Monster.
The lentils and veg are cooking away on the hob. For some reason the lentils aren’t breaking down to enough of a mush to bind the veg together. I add some more water.
What else can I do to be a good Trad Wife? I’ve got bacon and sausages in, I ask my husband if he wants a bap for breakfast. He reminds me he’s following a routine where he only eats between midday and 7pm. These are the things I need to be better at remembering.
I toss some rice into the lentil mix on the hob. Definitely too much rice. More cheese and egg will probably bind it enough.
I pottered around the flat. I took the towels down from the airer and put them in the linen closet. It’s a mess, I need to sort that closet.
The sausage rolls held together. They’re worth bringing down rather than throwing in the bin. I’m not a failure.

The family
We got to the beach and met my family. We were two hours late. I got the times wrong, it’s another thing I need to be better at.
I was worried I would have to talk about my redundancy over and over again. I didn’t. We just ate scones and sausage rolls, drank tea and prosecco and had a nice time.
I loved hearing my husband and my uncle talking about Nottingham and why they both love it. My husband has played gigs there, my uncle has probably not missed a Forest game in 40 years.
Later on
We went to ‘The Ivy’ and had a cocktail. The service could have been better.
I asked my husband what he wanted for dinner. He asked for arrancini, fresh pasta and salad. I think Trad Wife life means I don’t mention that this is a total hassle. So instead I just check when Tesco is open till to get the ingredients I needed.
I’ll add a disclaimer here: I love cooking and I’m a good cook, maybe great. Me asking my husband what he wants for dinner does genuinely mean he can ask for anything and I’ll be happy cooking it.

We get home, I cook. I offer making gnocchi rather than fresh pasta. My husband likes this alternative, I’m relieved, it’s far easier.
We sat and ate dinner while watching a documentary on how the world is fucked and recycling alone won’t help.
I fell asleep on the sofa.
The Trad Wife round up:
Sausage rolls eaten: 14 (they were small)
Glasses of prosecco: 4
Items of washing up: 20+
Feeling: Still lost.

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