I'm incredibly jealous when Iulia goes out in the evening for one of her fancy gigs. It's not my fear of her finding another bloke and hopping into the sack that worries me - I know she's found the man of her dreams already. I'm fully confident of that. A great hunk of a guy who bowls her over with the bat of an eyelid. And he's called Loki.
No, the thing I'm jealous about is all those lovely glasses of wine, and fizzy stuff, and cocktails and all sorts of goodies that I conjure up in my mind that she's exposed to while poor muggins here is stuck at home looking after the baby.
When it comes to manipulation, no one can come close to the brain of a three year old, particularly a spoiled one. I do my best, but the master of emotional shit stirring is Loki. I can only watch and learn.
I think you are learning very fast.