Tuesday, 1 March 2011

Fancy Tantrums



I need a contractor. For a new closet. Quick. If any of you can help, please do. I need someone Fancy, fast, and creative. I need a miracle worker.  My entire family’s happiness is at stake. You don’t believe me?

Our Fancy house has lots of fancy features. But the closets aren’t one of them. Clearly whoever designed our home is 1) a man 2) naked and 3) hungry. My closet and my kitchen suck. I’ve been meaning to hire someone to fix the situation but just haven’t gotten around to it.

But I’ve been pushed. With this work project I’m on, I’ve been getting up at the crack of dawn and actually working all day while the Nanny wrangles the children. When H gets up in the morning, he has to make his own coffee. Haven’t had a pedicure in forever and I’ve been missing gym sessions. The children have been eating takeaway. It’s been rough on all of us.

On Sunday, H announced that he was leaving urgently for a business trip and his car would pick him up at noon. True to form, at 11:45 he was still in the shower. I asked Nanny #2 to clear out a suitcase for him and sat myself down at the computer. 3 minutes later I heard screaming.  I kept yelling “what what?” and could barely make out his anguished cries for help. Our house is big. You can’t always hear easily. I pushed away from my work and went to find him.

H was standing in his closet, surrounded by clothes, throwing his ties in the air. “Nothing works here! I hate it! My house is broken!” he wailed. “Khakis, I need KHAKIS!”

You house is broken because your wife has spent the last week working? 2 Nannies and a cleaning lady aren’t enough to keep things in order? I know your closet sucks but is it worth this degree of hysteria? And guess what, buddy. English ain’t your mother tongue. When you are at the other end of the house screaming for “khakis,” I’m as liable to bring you toilet paper as I am a pair of trousers.

So I got my 280 pound toddler calmed down (Honey, when the Nanny kept asking me for “seeeds” I kept pointing to the picnic benches until I realized she meant the basil plants. I can’t always understand you foreigners.) and sent Nanny 2 running for an iron to press his pants. The pair in the closet were too dark! He needed lighter khakis. Together, we got him packed and out the door, only a few minutes after the car arrived.

So you can now see how my career and the integrity of my marriage depend on a new closet. The children happen to like takeout. But H has big problems. Can anyone help me? Mr. Fancy thinks his life sucks when his wife has a job. Just wait until there are workmen in his bathroom at 7 in the morning. Be careful what you wish for, darling. 

2 comments:

  1. This post had me massaging my shoulders by the end. My suggestion? Book a spa break while the builders are there. Let the big guy fend for himself. ;)

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  2. I love the way reality comes crashing in when Mum gets a life for 5 minutes. Glad to see it's the same in Fancy Town.

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