It's heartbreaking. What do we do? Go and cuddle him? What if that makes him more angry? Feed him to sleep? Surely that can't help break the vicious cycle? I feel like an evil Gina Ford bitch.
Suburban, middle-class 30-something living in London with dreamy boyfriend, 2 kids and all that. It gets worse, I actually like my life. I'm a left-leaning make of 30-something, so I spit on Chelsea Tractors and pontificate a lot about, well, anything really. All sounds very, erm, comfortable, I know, but I do have large reserves of cynicism, which I see as my saving grace for becoming one of the masses.
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