To summarise: I am a lazy bitch. The house is a fucking tip. I need to get my act together or there will be trouble.
So far, so lovely.
I took the foolhardy decision to argue back, suggesting that Mr M clean the kitchen himself if it bothers him that much.
Before I had chance to run away, he was up off the sofa.
Trouble was, so was the dog.
As Mr M pinned me down on the floor, pushing my face into the carpet and growling 'how dare you speak to me like that'...
...the dog leapt down and started trying to shag his head.
Seriously, how am I ever going to be put in my place if the dog keeps rushing to my defence?!