I had finished a long day at work and finally gotten home. The good lady called from upstairs, something about changing the baby. I quite like him the way he is, I chuckled to myself.
I wandered through to the kitchen to fix myself a coffee.
YURRK?!
I let out a strangled yelp as my eyes fell on something new in the corner.
What the bloody hell is this!?
It looked like a bucket. In fact it looked like one of my buckets. Wait? Had the good lady been rooting about in my inner sanctum??! I quickly dashed out the back door to the garage.
Oh sweet jeebus.
The garage door was ajar.
Tentatively, I stepped in, my heart pounding. She had been in here that was for sure. Stuff had been tidied. What the heck? How was I ever going to find any one of a variety of my man tools now that she had tidied stuff?
Was nothing sacred?
She had broken the covenant. The terms were quite simple. I gave her all my money and slaved away like a dog and she stayed out the garage.
She had cast it all aside. I mean for what?
Oh no... Suddenly my ever so slightly sleep deprived brain caught up.
A bucket?
I ran back into the house. The good lady was in the kitchen now, humming a jaunty tune as she stirred a pot of broken promises.
Mummy bear.
Yes darling?
She said this ever so sweetly, like she had been gargling sweet home-wrecker syrup.
What. The. Heck. Is. That?
I pointed with an accusing finger at the bucket in the corner.
Oh darling, you know what that is. It's one of your buckets from the garage. Remember? We need a bucket for the cloth nappies.
NO! I did not agree to that!
I hissed.
Well where else could we put them. Surely not the sink?
I edged close to the bucket. Oh lord. There, swimming in a fetid brown muck was a powder blue cloth thing. Boak. I felt my gorge rise. This couldn't be happening. I had forbidden this. I had clearly stated that under no circumstances would I share the house with a bucket of shit.
The good lady beamed at me.
You will be really proud of me.
What... Why? What have you done??
I grabbed on to the worktop for support.
I found a really good stick to fish them out as well. Look!
She lifted up a previously un-noticed stick of wood about a foot long.
Was that one of my poke'y fire sticks? It fucking was!
You have gone too far lady!
I stomped out of the kitchen in a massive sulk and sat in the garage contemplating the indignity of living with a frothy bucket of shit in the house.
That Doula will bloody pay for this.