‘You didn’t buy the air freshener’, said my wife, while she was checking the shopping bag. She had put all the groceries on the kitchen counter to put them in the right places. I have brought ‘almost’ everything she had asked me to buy, but apparently, this air freshener was the most important one. Well, at least that’s what I assumed from her annoyed look. I got lost in the oblivion for a few seconds to find the root of our conversation about what we had spoken before I left for shopping. I could think of everything else like she reminded something about our marriage anniversary while (I assumed) hinting about the gift she wanted. I even remembered what show was on the TV, but no clue about the air freshener. I knew that I need to come up with something to defend myself; otherwise, there will be the start of yet another lecture about how I didn’t listen to her what she said about five years ago!
Storming inside my mind, I am searching almost every nanometre of the neurons. But I was left stranded and defenceless like a person who is lost in the desert, and every way he looks, can’t see anything but sand. Or a person who got trapped in the quicksand and trying to grasp anything in the reach to get himself out.
Then came the second attack. I had to return to reality to face my half-angry wife. She is demanding for proof now. She claimed that she wrote it in the text message that she had sent to me as the shopping list. Instead of getting provoked, I saw a thin light at the end of the tunnel. Yes! I might be an idiot who forgets things, but here at this very moment, I could remember that there was no such mention in the text. Thinking of that, I have got my confidence back. I took a slow but deep breath and made sure she doesn’t see that and got my chest a bit up to show who’s the man, but she stopped me there even before I could say something.
‘No, I didn’t text you that,’ she clattered. ‘But I did mention it when I said what we need before I wrote the text. If you have listened to me carefully, you would have remembered!’
I almost got lost into that oblivion again. When did this actually take place? Where is that memory? Why can’t I recall that? ‘Can you remind me what exactly you have told me?’ I have tried to through a safe question as a step for a counter-attack.
‘Umm, I said we are going to run out of air freshener when you were giggling with your daughter,’
‘You did?’ now I could remember something she said when I was watching ‘Bluey’ with my daughter. That particular episode had something hilarious, and I was almost lost into it. ‘Well, you did say something like that, I think. But I don’t think I understood what you meant by that.’ I tried to grasp on something before I sank in the quicksand and slapped away the chance for a counter-attack.
‘I knew that,’ she took that from my hand instantly. ‘You never listen to me!’
At that moment I tried to be the man again, ‘When was the last time I didn’t listen to what you said to me?’ and realised that I had made yet another mistake, but it was too late to cover up.
‘Seriously?’ she moved her entire face to the back and touched her upper chest with her chin. ‘Just two days ago I told you to buy me some snacks for work. What did you do? You came home with a bunch of sandwiches, with no crisps or drink. And when I asked, you said you forgot about.’
I could remember that incident very clearly. In my defence, I was walking towards the crisps aisle, but my eyes got caught in the gardening tools. I have spent a good few minutes there but at the cost of crisps. As far as I could remember, I walked to the dessert aisle straight after that. I know my wife wouldn’t appreciate it, but at least I thought about the snacks!
‘And how long have I been asking you to buy some battery for the clock?’ she continued. ‘That clock must be entirely dead by now, and there’s no point to keep it on the wall!’
Man, she has some good points, I thought. But I wasn’t ready to give in to her complaints yet. So, I stormed out of the kitchen and sat on the sofa, declaring that I am not the guilty party here and as a protest, I am not going to cooperate with the household chores. I actually did this to divert her attention, but it fell all silence in the western front. After a few minutes, she came to the front room with a plate full of my favourite spaghetti Bolognese, of what she is a master. I asked her to bake me that a few days ago and all she had to wait for was me to get some cheese!
I looked at her lovely eyes. They were full of disappointment, but there was no complaint at this moment. As she sat next to me with her plate in hand, I thought, ‘Is that only me or all the husbands/partners are like this? Is the entire Men-Kind like this?’
