I’ve had a brilliant day. I’ve taken the boy bear out to a friend’s house, had my favourite meal cooked for me – paella, followed by cheesecake, yum, and had a good old natter.
I got home, fed the bear, had some fun with my partner, laughing, joking, flirting in the kitchen.
Fun. Happy. Relaxed. Calm.
Bear goes to bed, bear is learning to cry it out. Bear is just standing, silently, glancing at the camera, which, with night vision makes him look like something from a horror film. Partner and I watch this, we laugh, we enjoy.
Context is set – we’ve been having fun all evening, laughing, joking teasing.
So this is where it turns, and why I hear you ask? Because he turns on his game.
I go in to tell him something and I clock he’s taken one of my Coke Zeros. I DO NOT BEGRUDGE HIM A COKE ZERO. However it has been standard for me to mock rage and threaten death, so I lean to get it, take it and mock rage ensues… but my leaning over causes him to die on his game so fuck me… it’s like he literally died in real life.
I put the can down and he kicks it off the couch saying I can have it, I explain the joke, he doesn’t want to get it.
So I lose it.
I smack the wall with my hand.
The baby begins to cry.
Fuck you life partner.
Why does this game change your whole personality? How am I supposed to know when to stop joking? Stop having fun with my best friend?
Fuck you. You’re a dick when that game is on. Fuck you and now I’ll daydream that that fucking game console somehow trips and falls right out of the god damn window.
Now my hand hurts, my heart hurts and we’re not speaking. From brilliant to shit in 2 seconds flat. I should write a fucking book.
Angry mum out.