Okay, it's true that Jack and I are guilty of talking about our friends to the nth degree. But only because we love them, dah-ling!

With the kids at 9 and 11 now, we're way past the stage of socialising purely on the basis of the kids' likes and dislikes. There was a bit of that when they first started school and I was trying to drum up friendships with female doormats who let their husbands walk over them and with women who seriously asked me how I get my whites white.

But now I think I can pretty much claim that everyone who steps over my porch is someone I love. That includes the in-laws, the manic depressives, the unhappily marrieds, the recently bereaved and even the not-so recently bereaved. They are welcome one and all. Of course, once they leave the house, they leave themselves open to a complete couple once-over – we tear them to shreds, pulling apart the very essence of their lives until we have them nailed in our complicit understanding. But isn't that what every couple does? A bit? Isn't that what relationships are about?

Having done a quick survey – a la Carrie Bradshaw – of couples I know, I can hereby reveal that within relationships there is a heck of lot of gossiping about friends and family. I'm not sure how good this actually is for a relationship, mind you. During the said survey I asked the big question, 'Has gossiping taken the place of sex within your relationship?' Some couples were aghast at the suggestion but three or four admitted that they often felt they talked for too long instead getting down to 'it'. And one couple said that they quite often they were on the verge of a bonk when one or other of them threw out a good juicy nugget of gossip, the talk would start, the likelihood of sex would go out of the window.

So is gossip about friends and family the new sex for couples? Very likely, in many cases. How and why does this happen? I think it's a natural progression for a couple. And Jack and I are victims of it. But it's not just because we're sad parents who have no life and are thrown together in domesticity, unable to afford a social life because of the price of baby sitters. No. The real reason is far nicer than that…

As I see it, Jack and I are one. I therefore share with him my innermost thoughts. Some of those thoughts are wild unutterable things that should never pass my lips. I should not refer to the family who eat us out of house and home when they come over as 'the nosebags'. I should not listen keenly to friends' business ideas only to give them the Dragon's Den treatment after they leave. I should not, in public, be mean about those I love, but so close are Jack and I that I don't count being with him as being in public. Within our relationship, I can let rip. All my meanest thoughts can come tumbling out. And let it be said, he has no trouble doing the dirty on his mates and family – yes, you are all targets of his vitriole.

And the funny thing is that the more mean I am, the more he loves it. Yes, he adores my evil side. Positively encourages it. He finds it funny that behind closed doors I can be such a bitch!

But fun aside, our gossiping has its awkward moments. On a practical level, we're both forever reaching for the mobile phones to check they're switched off – we live in horror at the thought of being caught being evil about the people in our lives. I seriously hope technology doesn't drop us in it one day, but sometimes I feel it's just a matter of time before we're caught in the act…

Now read Jack's side of the story...

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