As another week of me sitting around on “sabbatical” begins I am genuinely starting to think the last few months are getting to me. My motivation levels to do almost anything are zero, the couch has a Dave shaped dent in it and I am not sure I have got properly dressed for weeks.
This is spreading a bit around the house as well. I asked Laura if she wanted to go away for a day or two this week, stay at a resort, lounge around by the pool and a few cocktails and she replied that she couldn’t really be bothered, I was pleased with this response because nor could I.
This means we haven’t done much over the last week or so, but as usual the things we have done have not gone exactly to plan.
Laura had arranged an evening out with her friends last week, just a few outside drinks at our local bar/restaurant. This venue has a special place in my heart. There was a period of time I ate there 4 times a week, I watched every England game at the last World Cup there, when Laura goes there with out me and gets the bill/check they identify her as “Dave’s wife”. It is basically the cheers bar and I am Norm.
When I do go there it is often spontaneous, I will receive or make a phone call, ask for permission, jump in the shower and be there 20 minutes later. It’s a very simply process. Whenever Laura goes on a night out it it is planned out better than the D-Day landings, if never as successful.
Laura decided she was going to ride her bike, so along with the usual minute by minute planning of our entire day so she could be ready to leave for 5.30, I was tasked with checking multiple weather reports from multiple sources to ensure biking was an option. At one point I thought I was going to have to send up a weather balloon to confirm that the glorious cloudless skies were going to hold.
My reward for playing weatherman and actually feeding my children for once was I got my usual game of golf on Friday. Now when Laura goes out, I have to help plan, drive her there, deal with the inevitable two day hangover that follows. When I go out, I have to bring home food.
On my way home on Friday afternoon I made my usual call to ask what was required for dinner and where I should go to get it. The phone rang and was answered pretty quickly. Instead of my wife’s dulcet Essex accent, I was met with a thick New York one, and a fairly stressed sounding one at that.
I hadn’t dialled the wrong number, instead it was Laura’s friend, walking partner and the reason my cell phone bill could fund a small army. The kids were playing together and had used the pool.
I asked to speak to Laura and apparently she was “busy”. The kids have been on holiday for weeks, we can’t go anywhere, there is nothing Laura could be doing to be busy in my mind. Some back and forward ensured and I was discouraged from “rushing home” and told that we would “Sort dinner out later”
I always get a bit nervy when I am told to not come home, it is very unlike Laura. Normally if I am out of the house for 25 minutes I am getting texts telling me the kids have recreated The Ultimate Warrior vs Hulk Hogan from Wrestlemania 6 over a phone charger or that there is a gas leak 5 doors down and I have to get home to sort it. It turns out that this was no different.
I made my way home anyway and walked in the house. The kids were unusually quiet, there was a sense of fear pouring from their bedrooms. They had definitely been told to go there and not leave.
I get to the living room, it is empty. Something is definitely going on.
And then I see it.
We have a patio/lanai at the back of our house, it is just over 300 square foot, all covered by a roof and screen, it is pretty large and the pool is sat out there. This 300 square foot area is covered with 4 inches of water. Not a few puddles, not some overspill from the pool, 4 inches of water everywhere and in the middle of it all, Laura standing there with a giant squeegy tool trying to sweep it all out of the screen.
I asked a couple of cursory questions about how this happened and why 400 gallons of water was sploshing about in my back yard and was met with the usual response when Laura has messed up. Hostility.
A side note, Laura is the master of getting away with mistakes. If I mess up and she questions me I apologize and take my bollocking. If Laura messes up and I ask she goes on the attack. The line “I know a messed up that is punishment enough” is spat out with such venom that any further digging from me just ends up with me somehow being in trouble.
It turns out that the kids played in the pool, It needed filling up and so Laura put the hose in and went indoors. She then got involved in a very in depth conversation, again probably about what an amazing husband I am, and forgot. Allegedly this was just for 20 minutes. Now I am no scientist, but if that was 20 minutes of water then there is a problem with the water pressure in my shower because I’ve had more powerful showers standing under a watering can.
Complaining about it was pointless, so I went inside, left them to it and ordered Chick-fil-a, I had seen this very similar scenario before and moaning got me nowhere.
Last summer we lived in a townhouse with a lovely green out the front. The first day of the school holidays they had a party for the kids with games and food and it lasts all day. Laura volunteered us to provide the power and water for the 25 foot water slide.
The party started at about 11am. I got in from work at 6pm, walked through the house and to the green. As I set foot on the grass I sunk about 8 inches into the sodden turf. I looked up and about 40 kids were head to toe covered in wet mud. It was like Glastonbury for kids. The hose had been on for 7 hours and literally flooded the green. It was still on.
Now I don’t mind a bit of fun, but Jesus Christ I was in the hole for about a $200 water bill and another $150 for some new shoes that I had ruined.
It was then that I learned for the final time not to question Laura, because she lost her shit at me complaining about that. So in hindsight it was a good thing that we couldn’t be bothered to go away this week, I’ve got another ridiculous water bill coming.
The Shroders in Florida 