Teddy and I had only been married a short time, one week, when
he confessed with tears in his eyes that
he was tired of drinking tea and wanted to installed an electric cappuccino making machine in our modest
kitchen. I was gutted. During our brief courtship I’d never seen
this hidden side of Teddy. The inner Barista in him had been lying dormant. But now here it was out in the open, my beloved
husband was a coffee enthusiast. Feeling
betrayed I return to my mother’s even more modest abode on the outskirts of
Wattlebird. My mother sat me down, held my hand as she offered me these wise
words of marital advice—“stable relationships are for horses.”
