As we hardened souls know, love wanes. As much as our life-partners are important to us, it may well be that love won't keep us together.
I'll tell you what will, though, the horrifying thought of single parenting.
The winemaker was very ill for a few days last week and was fundamentally bedridden, which meant I was, for all intents and purposes, a single parent for three days. And it just about killed me. I was desperate for the kids to be in bed by 7.30pm so I could collapse on the couch, wine in hand, with trash TV and a Lean Cuisine for company.
I have always had the utmost respect for single parents who successfully - on the surface at least - charter their family on the course of life without the assistance of another grown up. They have no-one to clean up the sick all over the bed sheets while they throw the toddler in the bath; no-one to hand them a glass of wine and takeover when the going gets tough; no-one to celebrate the small victories with. Having an extra pair of hands at times like this makes up for all the petty disagreements about discipline and the kids' diet and whose turn it is to cook dinner.
My single parent friends - every one of them an inspiration - tell me that they do it because they have to. Which is understandable, and I am sure I would do if it I had to as well. Thankfully, I don't.
When the winemaker improved, I mentioned that he was stuck with me as there was no way I was doing this alone. He seemed resigned to his fate.
So this goes someway towards explaining why I haven't blogged for a while - illness, work pressures, exhaustion. Damn that real life for intruding!