With a marriage as long as mine (ours) with four kids raised (almost), naturally, there will be scar tissue that has gathered. Niggles which I will try to demonstrate here and illuminate my life just a little.

Heading to some local shops this week to buy food for our evening meal, on getting into the driver’s seat of our car (I always drive), I sigh wearily. A sigh loud enough to register.

Sharing a car is probably a common marital bone of contention. In the seven years of owning our current automobile, it is has literally changed shape. It is still predominantly red but has acquired an array of other colours also as Nikki bumps and scrapes it in and out of tight spots and width restrictions. On this, I have developed a weary acceptance but there are still issues of car etiquette which rankle, hence my sigh already alluded to.

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