Escalation of tempers
Just before supper I tidied up what Beloved calls the library: the tiny entrance space by the front door that is packed with books. I got rid of the excess coats and a plastic box he’d brought in and hoovered the place.
During supper we were talking of a book which he went to look for. I expected him to be pleased when he saw the little room. Instead he was angry: the box of ski clothes was in his way. They’re in an ottoman from his parents. He said he wanted the ski clothes put in the loft and the box got rid of. Now!
I told him that his office was a midden, why didn’t he sort that out first. There was no room in the loft. It was inconvenient to get in and out of. The discussion quickly escalated to an argument. I was rude to him. Told him he was boring, anal, dusty, he should get a life, get his own space sorted out, get out of the house and leave me alone. He got a rubbish bag and made to tip the contents into it. I stopped him.