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Knickers

  Sun 24th October 2010

I'm at Kirsty's while she's away with her boyfriend. I've got the children, plus a friend's daughter, for the weekend.

I haven't got a washing machine so I took Bela and Csilla's washing round to Kirsty's and did it in her washing machine. I asked her about doing this once before and she said it was OK but I didn't ask her this time and I had to do it a bit secretly, wondering whether my eldest, who trails around me all the time except when I'm in the toilet, would notice the unfamiliar clothes. With the exception of one pair of knickers and one pair of those funny little leggy short things, Bela and Csilla hadn't put in any of their underwear. This was in between long phone calls to TalkTalk and warming up supermarket pizza.

I did the washing and dried it in relays: from outside, to the airer, to the radiator; folded it all up and went back to my house tonight to return it to them.

I came back to Kirsty's and started thinking about Sue's email again. "I was just meaning to reply to you. I'm sexting another of my suitors." That is, "you've become a friend to whom I report the things I do with others." I fucking hate this. It happens over and over and over again.

2 comments

Comment from: Sarsparilla [Visitor]

In some ways wrong, in some ways right. Would she have reported this behaviour to you if she didn’t want you to know she enjoys sexting?

Send her a dirty text already!

Tue 26th October 2010 @ 10:36
Comment from: [Member]

That’s obvious though, everyone likes it. She feels that I’m emasculated, safe and conventional enough to be able to talk about it. I can’t think of how to start it now - it would just seem like artifically forcing the issue, and I’d feel as though I was in competition with the other man, but starting with a handicap, or like a copycat. Another woman I’ve anaesthetised into deadening civility.

Tue 26th October 2010 @ 10:51


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