How not to work with your husband (part 1)

I woke early today. Feeling very proud of myself I got a coffee and sat in the dark of my bedroom as the family slept, working. Gradually the dawn started to break and shards of sunlight filtered through the black then grey sky. I carried on beavering away, full of feelings of potential.

When the family started to wake a few hours later I got ready to go to my Pilates class (if only every day I could be so righteously good) and as I went to say goodbye to my husband and son I marvelled at them – they were sat cosy and warm by the the window with a vast map of Germany spread out discussing world war two battles. They were excitedly sharing facts and drawing in the story of a book they are reading- aw homeschoolong at work I thought. 
And then I went and ruined it. 
Darling, said I, and off I rattled about an exhibition we are organising and some photos we need to get together for the organisers. It involves some creative decision making and that Is frequently a flash point for husband and I. And so it was today. We immediately started bickering about the photos we were going to select until Theo interrupted us. 
Neither of you are listening to each other! Why can’t you talk about this later? We’re doing stuff! Go to your Pilates! 
Boundaries, in this life, are everything.