I have been very alarmed to discover that HN has been keeping something hidden from me. Not, it has to be said, for the first time. This time, however, it involves neither raiding the children’s sweetie jar, nor secret plans for golf trips. It started with some old boxes in a cupboard, and the purchase of just one magazine, which has been secreted by his side of the bed for some weeks now.
He pores over it when he thinks I’m not looking.
He carries his iPad around in a furtive manner, shutting it quickly if I
sneak up on him come into the room. He mutters to himself a lot, and has taken to hiding himself away in his den so that he can continue with his obsession, uninterrupted. He has spread the objects of his pleasure across the room, and he spends hours fiddling with bits that will never work properly again.
Like all good wives, I accept that desperate times require desperate measures. And besides, I like to snoop every bit as much as the next girl. So Dear Reader….will of course have guessed what I did next.
I checked out his browsing history.
We know we shouldn’t do it, but we do. Every time. I read somewhere recently that if a girl checks to see if her man is being unfaithful, its because he probably is. Or something like that. It may have involved statistics. Anyway, back to the plot.
Pages and pages of Ebay hits. I do mean pages and pages. A sorry addiction, there in black and white.
Anything and everything he desires is for sale, it seems.
To my horror, ‘Large locos” was the last item he looked at. Boxes of the stuff. Why can’t I be married to a man with an obsession for sports cars?
There’s really nothing to be done. If any more of it comes in the house, I’m divorcing him.