Laughter Saves The Day
Marriage Chronicles
“My sons,” I said in throbbing accents, borrowing my cue and histrionics from veterans of the Mithibai College (the college I taught in) Drama Team, “would have helped me in the kitchen, and around the house. They would not be sitting staring into the mobile from morning onwards!”
Chastened, the other woman in the house, comes forward, and says, “I will help you.” I hold up a hand sorrowfully, but sternly. “No need,” I say, now in anguished, resigned accents, my face the picture of woe, like the last martyr, “I can do it on my own!”
She stands there, undecided. But I am a better actress than she is when I put my mind to it. So, beaten, she leaves.
Vengefully, I slaughter the spinach.
Many times, over and over again, I had faced flak from her, because my sons helped their wives in the kitchen and around the house. Apparently, they were not behaving like ‘real men’, and I had taught them the wrong values.
The next thing I know, I hear a lot of sounds coming from the bedroom. My husband, very pointedly, was trying to help, and he was mopping the floor with this weird contraption we have. It has a slab of soft sponge at the end and various parts that make it resemble a giant grass hopper or praying mantis, when used. He was dragging it all around the floor, leaving behind a trail of water, and whatever dust was on the floor. He doesn’t consider it necessary to squeeze out water, use fresh water, etc. I close my eyes and shudder in horror, but don’t say a word.
After the ordeal was over, he stands and looks at me and asks triumphantly, “See how quickly I did it! I can’t imagine why you take so long!” There were onion peels on the floor in the kitchen, and lettuce and spinach leaves. ”That?” I demand. He comes close and peers at it. “Oh, those,” he said airily, “they will fly away”.
Speechlessly, I stared at him and he swaggered out victoriously.
I stood there and laughed till I wept.
