Last night, Matt and I had a row. I'd cooked for us, and as he walked in the house was calm but the kids wanted to see him before they went to sleep and so he duly took them to bed where Bess promptly launched into a mega tantrum... After finally eating the dinner I had slaved over for an hour and a couple of glasses of wine we ended up in our own mega tantrum after a discussion about money and constant compromise went awry and I felt hurt, crushed and gutted and he felt furious and flounced off to sleep on our daughter's floor instead of our bed. The main issue of our row? 'Compromising.'
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