Babysitter

James brought his colleague home for a quick drink last night (ginger beer) en route from Gatwick following their business jaunt to Dallas. Martin has recently remarried, indeed, I met his new Japanese wife recently at their work's Christmas party (I was busy having a pedicure when they got married). Martin is aware that I am not happy about his new younger wife...

"Isabella and I were sooo over" he bellowed in a German accent. "Our relationship was finished the same day she conceived the twins. She let herself go, she breastfed like a fresian and lolloped about the house like a great hippopotamus..."

OHMYGOD! I almost inhaled my own vomit.

"They say couples grow to look like each other over time" I spat, glaring at his gut.

"I am well aware that you do not like Mayu, but don't pout so, it doesn't suit you. Are you afraid that James will trade you in for a younger model liebling?" he gloated.

The plank went on to describe how he "babysits" for his boys "at least once a week" to give "the old girl a break."

How dare he?

How positively frightful!

The beast (with a capital F).

"I wasn't aware that a father could babysit his own sons... I thought that was called parenting OLD MAN," I repelled.

How disgracefully cold! How dare he consider himself to be a parent with such distance placed between him and his perfect sons. I shall send Martin's ex-wife Isabella a 'Friends request' on Facebook toute suite. Our boys are scheduled to start at boarding school together just next year.

You know I think I shall investigate the benefits of colonic irrigation further...