I was about to cut the grass today when Tom stopped me. He said I wasn’t to do it as I didn’t know what I was doing and would fuck it up. Instead, he said we’d tackle the house together. He suggested doing downstairs while I did upstairs. I went up to start our bedroom where almost all of Tom’s clothes were strewn across the floor – clothes that he’d dumped there four weeks ago when he’d returned from a weekend away. I realised half-way through doing it, that he only suggested helping me because he’d run out of clean clothes and didn’t want to have to do his own washing. Every time I went downstairs for something, I found Tom sat on the sofa watching TV, not doing any of the housework he’d said he’d do. The only time he almost did something was when Mark from next door popped around. Tom quickly grabbed the hoover, turned it on and told Mark that we were both spending the day doing housework but as soon as Mark left, he dropped the hoover and went back to his laziness. In the end, I ended up doing the whole house on my own, it took me almost ten hours with having to stop to feed and entertain Annie and make dinner for the older kids. Tom did barely anything and stopped for good once it was Beer Time. Obviously, the grass didn’t get cut either.