So, we went on holiday to the Peak District to a rented cottage. I already knew that everyone else would be leaving on Tuesday evening, because they all needed to attend to work issues. Two daughters could not spare any more holiday (obviously, they need to go on holiday with people their own age and we are just so lucky they want to come with us at all). Hubby, who already cancelled our ten days in the Western Isles booked earlier in the year due to a work crisis, could only spare two days, Monday and Tuesday.
So what was my surprise, when younger daughter (25) announced during one of our five-mile walks: "Dad and I are going to go to New York for a week in November."
I began to get a small inkling of what it must feel like if your husband has a mistress. To be the less preferred person. The other is the one he will make time for no matter what.