The Accidental Trad Wife

Sunday scaries

I used to get the ‘Sunday scaries’. I wanted to make Sunday last as long as it possibly could, because as soon as you go home, you’ve given in. My poor husband. One more place, one more meal, one more drink. One more of anything that means the weekend doesn’t have to end. But last night I didn’t feel that, days of the week have lost their meaning. All days are days, Mondays are no longer awful, Wednesdays aren’t ‘Hump day’, Fridays aren’t ‘We made it team’ days. I prefer a it now, days are just days, they don’t have some prescribed meaning. 

I primped the flat this morning, and then went to meet a friend. I don’t feel right talking about our morning, all I’ll say is ADHD is real, and should be treated as such. 

We went for a drink in a Wetherspoons after whatever the morning was, it was needed. 

The prodigal husband returns 

My husband came to meet me in town when he got back from the Stag do. We went to a bar to get lunch. Their chef was ill, the kitchen was closed, we had half a drink, no lunch.

We got a taxi home and I made us cheese toasties for lunch. Aren’t cheese toasties great? Of course they are, no one could possibly disagree.

I’m really happy he’s home. I never used to mind my husband being away so much, now I miss him more than I did before. It’s not that I didn’t miss him, I just needed ‘me time’ in a different way. I don’t need that now. 

We fell in love on our fifth date. There’s never a day I don’t feel lucky to have a husband who’s also my best friend. I dated a lot before we met, I’d had countless partners and more trysts than I can remember. Sorry mum if you’re reading this. 

When we got together I knew who I was, and he knew who he was. If we’d have met in our twenties we’d have slept together, but we met in our thirties and have a life together. I think I’m the lucky one. And I think he thinks he’s the lucky one. I’m a pain in the arse, I’m definitely the lucky one. 

Love’s interesting, infuriating, comforting and imperfect. I don’t regret the relationships I’ve had. I know what I won’t accept, what I will, and what brings out the best, and worst, in me. My husband brings out the best. 

A normal evening 

My husband played on the playstation, l watched angsty music on YouTube. It’s a normal evening. 

I made chicken breast with a white wine and cream sauce, with mashed sweet potatoes, served with black pepper and lemon broccoli. The smoke detector went off when I was dry frying the chicken, I assumed I’d taken the batteries out when we moved in, it’s never gone off before. 

We snuggled together on the sofa. I’m the lucky one. 

The Trad Wife round up:

Hours spent cooking and cleaning: 3
Day of the week: Who cares
Trysts: I’d prefer not to say
Love: My husband, and best friend