The first thing I need to point out, is that the title of this post is now, it would seem, defunct…..or at the very least pleasingly misleading. I devised the appellation as an umbrella title for two or three posts, prior to the events of today (read this first) in what was obviously a self-defeatist frame of mind. However, today did not pan out in quite the way I’d expected. No it did not. If I were to have my title-time again, I would opt for a jaunty and self-confident
Wifey came home (later than expected) to find both children fed, bathed and asleep, the house spotless, me stood at the stove cooking her dinner and a glass of vin rouge poured and waiting patiently at room temperature. I kissed her passionately, brushed the hair from her eyes and enquired about her day. I listened intently to her response, ooh’d and aah’d in all the right places and agreed and disagreed as seemingly required. I then (after listening my ass off) regaled her with tails of trips to the park, art sessions on our new blackboard wall, games in the garden, fun in the sun, and three (count them – one, two, three) successful meal times.
It was going well. It was going very well. Not even responding to this question:
Did the kids miss me then?
with this answer:
No. Didn’t seem to. Didn’t even ask where you were…
could upset my apple cart.
(I am an ass, I know. As soon as the very words had left my mouth, my lunch nearly left via my trouser leg. But, my wife is a good woman. A patient woman. A woman now alas well used to my, as she delicately termed one day, ‘borderline socially unacceptable responses‘. God bless her she didn’t even flinch, she didn’t burst into tears, she didn’t even storm out of the room. Apart from the dead arm and being called a **** the exchange passed without a response worthy of mention).
So, against all odds and despite the expectations of me and my betrothed, the day was a success. Everything went well. Everything that is, apart from the things I neglected to tell her. Some things she just doesn’t need to know…..
For instance, she doesn’t need to know that I left the baby on the couch for a second, A SECOND, and she rolled off. She doesn’t need to know this. The baby bounced, she’s okay, she stopped crying, she’s forgiven me… what does Wifey need to know for? She also doesn’t need to know that a small part of the remote control has gone missing and that the last person seen with the remote control was the baby who eats everything. Even though I don’t really believe the baby has eaten the missing part, I’m still going to make sure I do all her nappy changes for the next few days, just in case it ‘turns up’. I think this just makes sense, as if the part does ‘appear’ and my wife finds it first, I’ll be spending the next few days at the proctologists waiting for the rest of the remote to re-appear.
And if we are getting things off our chest for heavens sake, she doesn’t need to know that I accidentally boiled the breast milk, that our vegetarian baby ate cat food, that I’ve lost one of our son’s wellies and that I mistakenly locked the cat in the pantry for the morning. SHE DOES NOT NEED TO KNOW. She’d only worry. After all this is only day one…..there’s day two yet.
Either way, if the channel changes on the TV when the missus is burping the baby, I’m leaving home.
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