He sits in my kitchen (at times like these the 'my' is so important) and drinks tea while Tall Girl shows him her recent art coursework. He makes the right noises, sort of, and then looks at his Blackberry and I resist the urge to kick him under the table! Her work is so important to her and worth more than a cursory glance, no wonder she is only productive in this house - she never does her art with him, which is OK except that she gets behind with work sometimes.
He likes to talk about what he did today, the recent show he went to, he has photos on his phone and I am making the right noises while (isn't it funny how your brain can do this) thinking that he has always been self obsessed but now that I don't live with it day in, day out, it is more obvious.
Later on we talk about different things; things we used to have in common; a game we used to play (on the extremely large PC we had in the '90's) until the small hours and how 'things have changed'.
We had fun together once, then. We were self obsessed together, we made a close world of two, became happily isolated. Then we became 3 and then 4 and it then it fell apart very very slowly, imperceptibly so. Funny isn't it?
Except for losing my children to him now and again I have no regrets, not one.