THERE ARE THREE OF US IN THIS MARRIAGE AND IT IS GETTING RATHER CROWDED

A wife's rant about being married to a journalist.

If your journalist husband is anything like mine, he probably started out with piles of newspaper clippings (sorry, very important references) cluttering up the place, that you were eventually able to surreptitiously remove from the home unnoticed.  

Hard at work journalist, looking for more papers to save

These life or death clippings were kept in special folders, for that special moment when they would be required again.  Mine never even noticed that I had binned them.

I Know Wot I Likes And I Likes Wot I Know.

This is adding up to be the worst week of the year so far.  Why I hear you ask?  (Okay, nobody asked, but it sounds good).  This week has seen the demise of an old friend, who was very close to me and to whom I have at times, been very closely attached.  Yes, I am talking about my belt.

Now I know there are a few of you out there scratching your heads wondering why I am so upset about my belt.  Well, to elucidate.