Friday, 21 November 2008

Homecoming

Dig comes home to the shires today. When he arrives, he will crash about the office, and fall into the furniture. This is understandable, having lived the last month on Asia time. And I expect his arrival will be made worse by that thing that happens in aeroplanes, where you think it is really three o'clock in the morning but the cabin staff demand you give yourself a blanket bath with a wet flannel while they flick coffee at you and force feed you a Danish pastry.

Well I can't be too sad about those experiences, if they are miserable. In fact it could be argued that Dig deserves some punishment for being away an entire month. When he comes home I can imagine his heart sinks because there's domestic punishment in store for him too.

For a start the house will be irredeemably chaotic, with no five star hotel perfection here. It will have a sort of bomb-blasted charm of course, with a half-finished model of a t-rex on the kitchen table and cut-up paper strewn about the floor, but its charm will have a short lived impact. Soon Dig will see it for the reality it is. A tip.

Then there is the small problem of the cracks in the ceiling, the broken down heating, the floorboard that's still wobbly, the bathroom that's broken, the toilet that leaks.

But of course your lovely wife will be here, smeared in glue and olive oil, wearing the clothes she wore last week with the sort of coiffure that breathes, caravan hair. I will drone on and on about boring things like the door fallen off the washing machine and what the children will be doing next Thursday to put into context the intellectually challenging material you have become accustomed to, like the economic outlook for South Korea to 2050. Then, possibly because no-one is listening to me or seems to care whether I am dead or alive, I might intermittently lie on the floor and weep, thus forcing everyone to step over me.

Dig's punishment probably won't stop there. Sadly, the sight of me is off putting, even to me. I bet sexy wife Grit would have a fantastically shaped body with improbable assets held up without wires, a sassy, classy dress sense, wonderful flawless complexion, fabulous hair and a vibrant sexy laugh, if only I hadn't been kicked about by the last nine years, run over by the steamroller called life, and generally been beaten up and battered down by all circumstance, before being randomly left alone for a month to feed, clothe and educate the children before picking up the bailiff's letters thanks to the bill Dig forgot to pay before he left.

Of course there is always the home punishment called Grit's cooking. Once my vegan tarte and vegetarian risotto was a source of continual delight and interest. Now I am the equivalent of a 1970s recipe book with some pages missing. Dig will look upon his plate like I have served him with a plastic squeaking lizard instead of some fine cuisine inspired by fusion of east and west. Hang on there, that may be true, because these days I do become confused and have been known to put dinner in the toy box.

Welcome home, Dig.

And, by the way, I saw a mouse run across your office floor last night.

8 comments:

The Finely Tuned Woman said...

No hasty, sexy make over then I guess. He'll just have to take you as you are. I hope you get to comb your hair and spritz on something lovely to confuse him. Cook him a really good hamburger with the works. Hopefully he will love you for it. I know the Gritlets will.

Minnie said...

Awww. Hope you two have a great 'love in'.....

Re the mouse....I can lend you a cat or two.......

sharon said...

Let me see, one live Grit, three live Gritlets, one car, one home (reasonably intact) ... what could Dig have to complain about after abandoning you all for the fleshpots of the East for a whole month?!! I'm sure all that obsequious first class service must pall after a time anyway, he'll be more than happy to return to the arms of his loving family.

Is Dig home now until after Christmas? If so I think you deserve a few days wallowing in a nice warm Spa resort somewhere sans famille. Dig can meanwhile enjoy the delights of wrestling with the rodents,leaks,faulty appliances, gourmet cuisine and the gritlets (complete with their educational needs), he'll love it I'm sure.

Jaywalker said...

Oh, so horribly familiar. It all goes a bit Discovery Channel round ours when the CFO is away. We slump on the floor to eat randomly scavenged old bits of food, cover each other in glitter glue, stick post it notes all over the tv and wear the same clothes for a week. Then he comes home and I make out that I hate him for another week or so, while he tries to wade through the months of unopened post without tutting ostentatiously.

Oh, and the children are even worse and ignore him totally, or look at him like a particularly disgusting pile of cat poo. Do the gritlets do this?

Mud in the City said...

Coming home is a wonderful feeling - especially in the run up to Christmas. And even a cooked plastic squeaking lizard is going to be ten times more palatable that some of the phlegm like gloop served up in Korea (best keep him away from tasty looking dogs though).

It does sound as though you deserve a break though!

Jonny's Mommy said...

I bet he's just going to be glad to see you at all, so don't be so hard on yourself, girl! And we can't all be the sexy model types. Not like me, of course. Ha. Ha.

Your writing is always so entertaining! Good luck with his return and put some pillows down in case he falls upon his return.

Angela said...

How come you can be so funny, Grit, I am full of admiration! Have you ever considered making a book of your blog, earning masses of money with it and SPENDING IT ALL ON YOURSELF?! How about a cruise on a five-star boat and leaving your hord of gritlets to your husband? Just for a while? You sure deserve it!

Grit said...

hello folks and thank you for your comments. dig is indeed back to suffer en famille for a few weeks, so hopefully now he can take his full share in family life, and what a share it's going to be!

jaywalker, the children do this barely-glancing-up thing when dig walks back through the door, and he is always disappointed by it. i tell him he just needs to spend some time with them. lots of time.

angela, that is an excellent idea. i would spend all the profit on beer.