She’s slim, petite and shiny. When he’s talking to me, he’s still thinking of her, or in fact, often, staring right at her or putting his hands all over her. She is constantly calling and he makes no bones about jumping at her every sound. Her name is Blackberry and I hate her.
Lately the two of them have taken it a bit far. She’s been sleeping in our room. Can you believe that? The nerve. Last night they crossed a line and it almost cost both of them their lives. Really, it’s his fault — she’s just a pawn. I knew she had been sneaking into our room at night — apparently it energizes her. But last night, I found out the truth. She stays up all night!! Sits there –wide awake waiting for attention from him. And when she screamed around 4AM, and I smacked him awake so he would realize, he jumped up and went to comfort her. Instead of banishing her, as any decent husband would have, he sat with her for 10 minutes trying to figure out what made her cry out like that. Needless to say, I was not happy. As usual, he tried to blame someone else for her antics and wouldn’t accept that he was responsible by allowing her in the room in the first place. But I was having none of it. This morning I laid the law down — if I ever find her in our room at night again, she’s going out the window and he won’t be far behind.