‘What did you just call me?’ I tore into the kitchen, shaking. ‘I called you “mental”,’ replied my husband nonchalantly, barely looking up from his lunch.
At this I bunched my hand into a fist and smashed it hard on the counter. This being granite, the counter won. Nevertheless, I gave it a few more smacks for good measure. I can’t remember what I said, but I do recall it turned the air a deep blue.
I was a woman possessed – by hormones. A few months after the birth of my third child (I had three under three) days were spent
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