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Todd Widdicombe

My Time

Todd’s tales

Todd Widdicombe says it’s time to come clean about his wife’s dirty little secret.

I busted my wife Michelle the other night doing something that has forever altered the very fabric of our relationship.

This beautiful woman, my best friend of 20 years, the mother of my four kids, my rock. How could she? The bigger question is, how can I? How can I move forward from this betrayal? How can we even attempt a reconciliation? Will I ever be able to trust her again? How long has this been going on?

The fallout from this type of deception is huge and I know I’m not Jessica Watson (new phrase to replace saying Robinson Crusoe, or John Sanders, or Kay Cottee. Or you can use the rhyming slang, which is Pat Malone or Bugsy Malone. You could even say “I know I’m not Tom Hanks in Cast Away” but was he really alone given he had Wilson the volleyball for company?). Sorry, I digress.

Point is, I’m not alone. In fact, the startling thing is this is happening to blokes all over the Coast. The statistics of this heinous dishonesty are astounding. More and more women are straying to the dark side and us blokes are helpless to stop them.

I’m assuming you know what I’m talking about but for those who need me to say it out loud…

Yep, you guessed it, I caught my wife in bed watching Married at First Sight.

I’ve suspected something’s been going on for a while now. She’s been disengaged, constantly chatting on her phone in whispers (which I’ve now discovered was her talking with her sister Sharon about how much of a douche Dean is). She’s deleted texts to her various girlfriends and wiped her browser history (after spending hours watching and re-watching MAFS episodes) and has even locked herself in our room to binge on this salacious distraction.

When confronted with the facts she broke down and said she didn’t know what was happening to her, she was terrified of the monster she’d become and even begged me for a second chance, but not before locking herself in the bathroom to watch the final five minutes of the latest episode where Tracey demands commitment from Dean while he wants her to be a stay-at-home mum. I mean, WTF? As the kids say, Why the Face?

Michelle has promised me she’ll change. She’ll do everything she can to mend the broken trust. She’s swears she’ll never see MAFS again – convenient given it’s pretty much finished for the season. But I’m no fool. Once bitten, twice shy and with The Bachelor about to come on the telly, I know she’ll be back to her dirty, secretive ways soon enough.

Lucky for me I too have a mistress and her lure is far too great to resist. I’m into her big time and I spend my Friday nights, some Saturdays and most Sunday afternoons with her. Her name is footy and she’s a ripper.

Perhaps the key to success in this sitcho is an open marriage. Michelle can have Dean and Tracey and I’ll have JT and my Cowboys.

You and I both know who’s getting the better deal. Sure there’s the electrifying drama and the sexy, well-fit contestants, but then again I’m sure Dean and Tracey go alright too.

 

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