The doorbell rang.
I'd been in a happy little world of festive goodwill, wrapping up christmas presents and bounded upstairs to answer the door. The Ex was there, with First-Born (today, you see, is a First-Born day.)
With The Ex was a woman I didn't recognise.
"This is The Boyfriend's mother," said The Ex, "She wanted to meet you. Can we come in?"
Speechless, I stood back and they both came in and peered at the bomb-site that is the living area of my home. Sunday is Ironing day, and the room looked like an explosion in a clothes shop. A nice clothes shop, I might add.
After a few awkward minutes of stilted conversation I was left alone with First-Born and not an inconsiderable amount of confusion.
So what was that all about?
