Lost confused and looking for Inspiration - Stage 2

Cant live with them...

K is doing the shopping, has been doing it for months now and each time he does it there is something brought home that really makes me want to scream.

I know I should be grateful that he is doing the shop but today he brought home a ten pound back of potatoes, we don't use that many spuds in a month and have almost no storage space for vegetables and eggs that came from CAGED CHICKENS!!!

I didn't even know that supermarkets stocked eggs that come from caged chickens, its barbaric, its nasty, its cruel.

I'm gong to have to wait until tomorrow to throw them away. When I asked him about them he just said "they were big eggs, the writing so bloody small how am I supposed to read it".

Men, can't live with them....

Yes, he's a man, but he's my bro and he's back from the Gulf. Only for a week or two then he goes back out to annoy Americans, teach Iraqis how to swear and run the bar - or at least that's what he tells us he is doing!

Mum nearly had a heart attack when he walked through the door, dad had been keeping it a secret.

On meeting his nephew he asked "what else does he do?" but he has been know to answer the question "Do you like babies" with "Yes, fried they are lovely, not too sure I agree with liquidising them though!" I know he doesn't mean it though cause when he thought no one was looking he took Dylans little hands in his and smiled!!!

Easter came and so did Malcolm - he called late last week and K invited him up as he was in the area visiting friends.

I was going to talk to K about ensuring that he helped out but we've been fairly clashy this last week or so that I backed down and kept my mouth shut. Usually when we have visitors I'm the one that does all the "entertaining", all the cooking, all the making sure the guest is happy, but with Dylan on the scene I knew my priorities would be elsewhere.

I just figured I would see where things went. Malcolm arrived and an Indian was ordered (no cooking for me - hooray). Rosie had hurt her foot so K and Malcolm took off to the vets, it cost us £133.00 for them to tell us she was okay and give us some drops. I meanwhile changed the bedding and tidied the room Malcolm was staying in.

Sunday came and after carrying out the 7am feed and entertaining Dylan for an hour Malcolm woke up, K was sleeping, so I made him breakfast and we chatted waiting for K to wake. I prepared lunch and K and Malcolm headed out for a bit of a walk. I got Dylan down and napped myself. The guys returned around 3pm having gone for a walk and having a couple of pints. I then prepared dinner.

Monday we headed out: firstly to Mothercare to sort out the suit Malcolm had brought for Dylan, without realising it it still had the shop security tag on it. Then down to the Millenniumm Bridge (locally known as the Winking eye). As we got parked up Dylan began to cry and it was here that we discovered Dylans dummy was not with us. Kdidn'tt seem to think it was a problem that I spent the next 40 mins sat with my finger in his mouth whilst Malcolm and he enjoyed a pint!!!

Basically I'm pissed off at him for doing what I knew he was going to do , butI'm actually more pissed off at myself for letting him!!!

K was off work today, what with it being a bank holiday an all, so I thought it would be a nice idea if we went shopping as a family. I loaded the baby bag, got Dylan dressed and secured in the car and we set off.

It took me a while to find a trolley that allowed us to wheel Dylan round in the car seat, so much so that K went off into the shop. Having found a trolley and found K we had to load the stuff he had in his trolley into mine, why was that such a big deal.

We then plodded round the shop doing the usual stuff, him buying cheap, me taking it out of the trolley and buying the brands I actually like. Other than grunting at each other we hardly spoke!
Then at the cash register all hell broke out when I suggested K should have remembered an item, because we had been talking about it that morning. He yelled at me to "shut up". Then when we got in the car he informed me that "I was never going shopping with him again". There were a few more expletives in there but that was the gist.

So not only cant we talk to each other about the baby, but now we cant even do something as simple as a shop - Ive spent the day reading in the bedroom and he is watching TV!!

Yep, its true, this morning K got up and without any nagging he did all the ironing AND cleaned the bathrooms - even the little one.

I was in a state of shock. Since moving back into the caravan its the first time he has done anything, apart from cooking a dinner the first Sunday we moved in. I've tried not to say anything but he was really pee'd with me when I joked with mum that he had obviously been taken over by an alien.

So once again we are not really speaking - but hey-ho what's new!