A stroppy teenager

 Some days are good ones, even weeks (quite rare to have a whole good week though!).  Some are....shall we say, not so good.  This past week has been one of those.

Husband has been so argumentative, he'd say black was white just to contradict me.  I don't know why he's being such a grump - I know he doesn't like Christmas in any way, shape or form (other than the stuffing his face with food aspect) but it's not just that.  He seems determined to disagree with me on almost everything - and he will argue till the cows come home.  If it's a silly little thing that's not worth arguing over, I just say 'Whatever' or 'Ok' and walk away, it's not worth getting all fired up about something trivial.  He seems to be determined to show that he's right and I'm wrong all the time - well ok, please yourself, if that's what you want.  An example - the other day he said we need some AAA batteries.  Whilst we were in Bridgwater shopping a day or 2 later, I picked up a pack in the shop, he asked why I was getting them?  Because you said we needed some, I replied.  "No I never!" was his immediate response.  I made the mistake of saying yes he did say that, which immediately prompted a snappy reply from him again insisting he never said it.  I gave up and put them back - if he now finds he does actually need some, well he'll have to go out and buy them himself.  Almost every time I say something, he contradicts me.  And for the past week he's taken to complaining about some aspect of most meals I've cooked - too spicy, I don't like garlic, I'd have preferred pasta to rice, it's not hot enough.  He left a pile of potato slices the other day (he almost never leaves food on his plate, he even eats my leftovers)....I asked why he wasn't eating them and he said they were raw!  Of course they weren't, silly man - admittedly, they could have done with another minute or 2's cooking, but they certainly weren't raw, I ate all mine!  I don't usually say anything when he's complaining, but because he was doing it so often, I did make a point a couple of times of saying he was welcome to cook all his own meals from now on, if he thought I was such a bad cook!  Funny how all these more than 40 years he's eaten everything I've put in front of him with no complaint (rarely any compliments either, it must be said).  I know he can't help it, it's the cognitive impairment which is getting worse, but it's hard to stay calm and not feel resentful or irritated.

This morning he asked if I'd ordered him a bottle of Scotch in the shopping delivery for the end of this week....I said no (with all the many meds he's on, he's not supposed to drink alcohol, although the odd small glass in moderation wouldn't hurt.  The trouble is, he doesn't know what moderation is).  I have, however, ordered a bottle of ginger wine (much less alcoholic than whisky), and one of those small individual sized bottles of red wine for him to have with Christmas lunch.  He got a strop on and insisted I order him a bottle of whisky, I refused.  If he really wants a bottle of strong alcohol, he'll have to go and buy it himself, I'm not aiding and abetting him to do something detrimental to his health.

It's like living with a stroppy teenager at the moment - and I never did want children!