I am a fusspot. I fuss too much. I want perfection, order and control. He is forbearing. He doesn’t have the same need as I have but he tolerates mine. But sometimes, just sometimes he snaps. It is fair enough. I push him too far. I know this. He loses his temper, I slink off, a dog with a its tail between its legs. I am sorry. He is still smouldering. We do make up. I am sorry and he forgives me. It will happen again. I try to temper it. He doesn’t know all the times I keep my mouth shut. How can he?
