We had been chatting about relationships and there was a frisson of something in the air between us. I felt a nervous twitch coming on. All his fault of course...'the ex' and the twitch...not the very cute guy interrogating me.
The trouble was, it was a bummer of question to answer and the cute guy knew it because he was grinning mischievously at me. I mean, how do you explain a ten-year marriage to a psychopath without making yourself look like a complete fruit loop yourself?
Obviously, I could have gone on the defensive, explaining that psychopaths are masters of disguise, you know, seemingly normal and often charming people until someone or something tips them over the edge.
I could have recounted the psychologist's explanation that 'the ex' suffered from the same personality disorder as both Hitler and allegedly Stalin. Shouldn't that elicit some degree of sympathy and understanding from my sexy interrogator?
Or, I could have given a boring monologue of dates and times when I noticed that 'the ex' was behaving just a little left of centre, and then cleverly lifted the conversation with the hilarious story about my 'aha moment'
Hell, even the explanation that I am a truly benevolent soul, believing in the best in people until proven otherwise makes me sound like a naive nutcase given a ten year marriage.
Now let's face it, it's not often that a divorced mum of four gets chatted up by a good-looking younger man. I damn well wasn't going to let this opportunity pass without some attempt at making it clear that I consider myself to be a balanced, emotionally mature, exceedingly yummy mummy.
I took a sip of wine, gave him my sexiest, most mischievous smile back and told the absolute truth.....
"Well, I suppose I realised the day that I stood in the laundry dosing all of his underpants with itching powder"
