A weekend of bliss. Err almost bliss I would say.
Living with my future better half has been bliss so far. Cars, Football, lots more football, cussing about football, millions of fake pounds from football, wars, more talk about wars, Alfa Romeos, Ferraris, Lancias, premier leagues and fantasy premier leagues, Clarkson, Hammond, May, more cars, the world wars, music from centuries ago but NO insects! For those who know the two of us, you know how much each word rings true. You would have let out a tiny laugh over the no insects bit. For those of you who don’t you’ll know soon enough as to why I brought it up even.
So this weekend, I somehow convinced him that it was time to leave the drudgery of the house and try something new like skiing with friends he’d made this year. Friends he made himself for the first time in his life. (You’d think I was going on about a 5 year old. He’s old enough to have fathered a couple of five year olds by now. ) And thus, I would have the house to myself. You know most couples would be happy at the thought that they could go their separate ways, party with their boyfriends or girlfriends, live like a carefree teenager and all that jazz. I was too! Incredibly excited, gleeful and couldn’t wait for him to leave. Why, you ask?. Was he that bothersome? Was I planning to leave him for someone else? Nah. None of that. As much as that opening paragraph led you to believe that he’s dominated my entire life, he isn’t all that bad. Truth is I need him around. Mostly to do the chores. Like throw the garbage, move the furniture, vacuum the house, do the dishes, and drive me around. Basically anything that I’d find boring and cumbersome. He is my personal and free of cost handyman.
So the day for his weekend holiday finally arrives but quite contrary to what I thought I’d feel, I was almost sad that he was leaving. But within a few minutes of him leaving, as he had rightly predicted, I was back to my earlier state of blissfulness and excitement. I wake up next morning and the first thing I do? Throw the balcony doors wide open to let the fresh air in. He believes that the freshest and purest form of air is artificially conditioned air that is cooled to 68 degrees and is free of insects. Whereas I believe that fresh air means wide open doors and windows, with insects exercising the Fifth Amendment. Aaahh….you have not heard of an amendment past the 2nd one, is it not? Well thanks to the TV show I am currently binging on (“The Good Wife”. Closing season 2; thank you very much!), I know there are more!….look it up. And so began my weekend of fresh air, lots of good wife episodes, and lots of doing nothing verging on setting new benchmarks for the fourth deadly sin.
Flash forward to day 2 of his trip and I get a call from his friends from the ski trip. My first thought was he was late as usual, his friends were mad waiting for him and they were calling me to tell me that they were abandoning him. But then I thought nah, they are way nicer than that. Second thought, his precious flagship killing android phone was broken. I am the one that usually gets blamed for stuff like that, rightly so because of how coordinated I am. An evil grin lit up my face for a second at the thought of telling him how he broke his phone and how irresponsibly he behaved. But nope none of that happened. What really happened was that he fell while skiing and dislocated his shoulder. Now if that makes him sound like some cool Tony Hawk type character on skis, then let me stop you right there. The man stopped before he started. He was upright for a minute and then down left before you could say whoopsie daisys. There went my blissful weekend….almost. Flash forward to a couple hours more, after frantic phone calls and turning the house upside down hunting for his insurance information,(because that’s obviously my job), the emergency room put his shoulder back in place and put his arm in a sling. They suggested he get pain killers for the pain which our man went hunting for in the nearest pub. I believe the pain killer he took was named gin and tonic.
The minute I heard pub, to cool my head that you could now fry an egg on, I went back to the best way I know to deal with stress. You got that right! “The Good Wife”! But wait…my handyman wasn’t there today so groceries and shopping was all up to me…grrooaann. Leaving my fancy local supermarket, I decided it was payback time for the stress this idiot caused me. Rubbing my hands with glee I stopped by the florist’s aisle. He absolutely hates flowers or any greenery inside the house. Know why? Remember insects? His insect free life would go down the drain, because all the insects in the world are just waiting for him to have home grown fauna. Let me remind you that he lived in India all his life. India has insects wherever you go, even in air conditioned spaces. They seem to exercise their Fifth Amendment rights very very seriously (you looked that up didn’t you), US insects should take a cue. Albeit that night I had the most beautiful flowers by his bedside. You know an injured person comes home and he has fresh flowers by his bedside and all that.
Day 3: Bliss. Open doors, open windows, make tea, look at the flowers, breathe in fresh air, look around at my little pieces of art, pretend to read with a cup of tea, breathe in fresh air again. The flowers, go touch them, smell them (they have no distinct smell by the way), this was just perfect! I also decided to cook and while cooking, almost set off the fire alarm. The perfect excuse to open the doors wider. Wide open doors, me cooking, watching my flowers from the corner of my eye. My life is, oh so, beautiful. All Zen. And then, I heard it. That mortifying sound, a faint buzzing. At this point, I was getting dressed to hit the gym. Why are you surprised? Of course I exercise! Where else would I wear my fancy gym clothes? But the buzzing changed everything. And then I saw it…a single blue beetle fly or blue bottle fly or whatever it is called. I could almost feel my fat burn kicking in, the heart rate on my Fitbit was 169. I am not even making this up. Yeah, of course I am, but this was an emergency. Hunting flies is not a human being’s special ability and he was arriving in 5 hours. By now, workout mode was down the drain and I knew what I was in for, so I changed into combat gear, my polka dotted pajamas, armed myself with a trusty roll of paper and prepared to exterminate. I waited patiently trying to find the target in a vulnerable position, locked onto it and then I made my move. I am not the most coordinated person but I think I got him/her clean. With a smug look on my face I said “I stole a visa…baby!”….What? isn’t that what that metal man says in that termination movie? Although why he is so proud of stealing government documents I could never understand. And then, horror of horrors, I heard it again. A faint buzzing.
One hour left for him to arrive and this fly is probably still alive in the house. I fretted about this for a while and then I went back to what I do best. Nah! Not good wife this time. I left all the doors and windows open, hoping to breathe in my last breath of fresh air before I was imprisoned in the air conditioned insect free zone, all the while silently praying that it was actually insect free. I promised myself I would never tell him about this but well, eventually he’ll read this and he‘ll know but before that, please die blue bottle please die. As I enjoyed my last breath of fresh air in walked my man and engulfed me in happiness and hugs. Wait! Is that a fly buzzing again? This is the last I breathe. The last I will see of flowers in my home. Goodbye precious.
Note: For all those feminists out there, who may go crazy over this post, I love grocery shopping and flowers and a pretty place and all that jazz but “The Good wife” doesn’t refer to me being a dutiful and obedient wife. I haven’t finished two seasons of being an actual wife yet. Heck I am not even legally a wife. Yes, yes, I know I could do a lot better with my life. For now, I just want to watch “The Good Wife”. Hah!
madhattered 