Hey love, listen up Ive got to tell you this whole drama thats been going on with Stan and me, and its pretty much a classic British household tiff.
Dont expect love if you keep acting like that, Stan said, shaking his head.
How am I supposed to earn love after twenty years of marriage? I replied, a little cheeky. Is that even fair?
Youre a clever woman, arent you? he snapped. Is it really that hard to see what I meant?
I told him, When you call a woman clever, you usually mean the opposite!
He rolled his eyes, Youve got it all wrong again! Your little manipulation doesnt count. In this case youre the one in the wrong, not me!
I sighed, Ah, the specifics! and went on, So weve got an interesting situation, havent we? Youve just come home exhausted, and I, being the understanding wife, am supposed to not only stay out of your way but also bring dinner to the sofa?
Ethel, you sound like you think Im some tyrant! Stan clenched his jaw. But as a normal person, dont you get that Im knackered?
I get that youre knackered, I said, nodding. But you can still get to the kitchen, cant you? Youre not an invalid or on your deathbed!
So youll only serve me food if Im completely spent? he retorted, getting a bit dramatic. Maybe youd like me to end up a cripple, or worse, bless us both with that?
Less chat, more action, I replied, pointing toward the kitchen. Its right over there.
Youve got to be kidding me, Stan! Dont you understand? Im a normal person, and Im dead tired! I urged.
Enough with the pleading, Ethel! Im worn out from work too, and I dont want to be running around with trays all night.
You know how it goes youll ask me to fetch the salt, the ketchup, the sour cream, the mayo, extra bread, or whatever else, as if the pantry is a treasure chest you have to hunt for. The kitchens right there, you just grab it and youre happy.
Right, Stan said, shaking his head, thats not how you earn my love. He shuffled toward the kitchen looking like a swan about to collapse.
Actor! I snorted, settling more comfortably in the armchair.
He waited, eyes wide, anticipation building. And then he shouted from the kitchen, Ethel! Whats that supposed to mean?
I didnt even think about jumping up. Not a muscle twitched.
Whats that in the fridge? A pot? A plate in the drying rack? The microwave still in place? I said calmly.
Honestly, Stan muttered through clenched teeth, thats absurd.
For the record, I smiled gently, Im knackered from work too. So? Whats the point of all this? I said, turning back to him.
Stan stared at me for a minute, muttered something under his breath, and trudged back to the kitchen.
It could have turned into a fullblown family blowout with tragic consequences, but the next day we were supposed to visit the Roberts family. Mum decided it was time for a big gettogether because, Its been ages, hasnt it? a reason you rarely hear people use, and one that had been postponed more than a dozen times before.
Mrs. Margaret Roberts wanted the whole clan together just to chat, no special occasion. So Stan thought hed moan about his motherinlaw.
Maybe Mum should set her daughter straight! he muttered.
When the formal part of the dinner was winding down and dessert was about to be served, he blurted out, I get it, Mrs. Roberts, but somethings wrong with your daughter! He went on about how things were heading toward a divorce and how life can throw you curveballs.
My God, whats happening? Mrs. Roberts gasped, clutching her chest.
Yesterday I got home from work exhausted you cant imagine! All I do is bring home the money for the family. The week was brutally stressful. I was drained to the bone! I asked my wife to feed the provider, and she just pointed at the fridge and didnt move a finger!
Mrs. Robertss eyes widened surprise, outrage, despair, all at once. I kept my composure, looking oddly detached.
My brother Colin jumped in, I said, and said something about me and Ethel not getting along. He bragged about his Sunday dad duties, mentioned our exAnna, and complained about his alimony. He said Id asked Ethel to tidy up, and shed just waved a broom at me and told me not to be a pig.
My sisters son piped up, Stan added, saying Id asked Ethel to iron his shirt and she gave him a tutorial on YouTube instead of actually doing it. I took it all in stride.
Ethel listened to both complaints without a flicker of irritation. But her mother, Margaret, got really wound up.
Ethel, whats happened to you? she exclaimed, tears in her eyes. You used to be such a good girl kind, polite, helpful! Im ashamed of you!
Im not ashamed of myself, I shot back firmly.
***
Even the sun has its spots, right? Patience and virtue arent always praised these days; people tend to knock them down. Why put up with it? they ask. Why endure so long? Id say, I wouldnt have put up with it!
People love to burn bridges whenever its convenient, yet they also adore a nice chat that solves things with words, not with wreckage.
Delicacy has always been my thing. I was raised to see each person as a world of their own, so imposing my standards on someone else is, at best, foolish, and at worst, disastrous.
To really get someone, youve got to stand in their shoes, see through their eyes, think the way they think, and only then judge.
Thats how I figured out why my friend stole my boyfriend. It hurt first love and all that but I looked at it from his side: He wanted more, I wasnt ready, and Katie was ready and wanted him. If Kirill had been ten years older, maybe his hormones would have settled. His move made sense.
Then I saw it from my friends side: She comes from a large family, always short of cash, parents making her watch the younger ones. Kirills wealthy, an only child a ticket out of a cramped home, a chance at a better life. Thats just one of many examples. I never gave up when things got tough; I always tried to understand the motive behind actions.
At work, when colleagues tried to set me up, I often managed to prove my point and restore fairness, never blaming the offender, just hunting for the reason. Every reason, unless its sheer madness, has a legitimate root and can justify behaviour.
To Stan, I became a treasure a pearl, a priceless gem. Most of his flaws were forgiven and brushed off as little annoyances. It wasnt perfect, but it worked.
Not every bloke knows how to compliment or flirt, I admitted. So I wont blame him for not bringing flowers or opening doors. Ill just pull my own chair in a restaurant if I need to.
I accepted that Stan isnt great at tidying his mum always did that. He cant cook, cant handle the washing machine, basically nothing around the house. I realised not all men are handy.
Sure, Id ask him to do things, show him how, but most of the time I just did it myself.
When he didnt show much fatherly affection to our son, I understood why. Science says dads start to bond with their kids around two to three years old, when they can actually interact. Before that, theyre clueless and a bit scared of a screaming infant. That explained why Stan got irritated when little Dennis cried or when I spent more time with him than with Stan a mix of fear and jealousy.
When we hit our tenyear anniversary, I accepted that Stan had grown a bit colder. Its just habit now, not those teenage hormones any more! I laughed.
I also understood his need to get out with the lads after work a bit of a break, a change of scenery.
I even imagined what would happen if Stan ever had a mistress. Would I understand? I didnt need an answer because he never looked that way. That flaw simply didnt exist.
My life wasnt just about Stan. Our son Dennis followed in his dads footsteps, preferring videogame battles over chores. Thats where we finally clicked he sees his dad as a role model, which is natural.
My brother Colin, younger than me, was a completely different animal. He loved noise, drama, and feeding off other peoples energy. As a kid Id cry over his antics, but later I saw it was his jealousy and need to control emotions. His marriage was a shortlived sprint; his wife was strongwilled, they fought for years and then split. Their little daughter Ivy ended up without a full family.
Colin became a Sunday dad, utterly clueless about household tasks just like Stan. Before taking Ivy for the weekend, hed ask me to tidy his flat and cook something decent because he was happy ordering takeaway. Their exwife only dropped off Ivy once a month, so Colin rarely had any real parenting duties.
Then theres Mum. People say mums the holy grail, and theyre right. When she asks for help, you cant say no. But if it becomes a burden, you can set limits.
Mrs. Margaret never acted overly pushy. She could clean and cook, but she invited me over mainly for company, not for chores. Id stay, chat, and lend a hand when needed, never feeling obligated to stick around forever.
One evening, after everyone else had quieted, I finally said, Im not ashamed of myself, Im sad about my choices, because I tried to please everyone, to take on more, thinking youd all appreciate me. I thought youd love me for that, but I never saw it coming.
The room fell silent; people were used to my quiet. Then I continued, Im not a girl anymore, Im too old to change everything. From now on Ill do only what I want.
If I feel like feeding the husband after work, Ill do it, wash the dishes, all of it. If I dont, Stan, you know where the fridge is! I laughed. Youre not a child who cant feed yourself, and that goes for Dennis too youre seventeen now, you can manage a shirt, an iron, a meal if you want.
I turned to Colin and said, If I want to visit my niece, Ill come over and tidy up for you. If not, youll sort it yourself or hire help. Dont expect me to do it all.
And to Mum, You can welcome your daughter into a clean flat and treat her to something nice, instead of forcing me to do everything.
I saw the sour faces of my family; they didnt like what I was saying. I just didnt want to be everyones convenience any longer. I wanted to be convenient for *me*.
Im heading home, I announced, standing up. If you dont like the new rules, Im not calling anyone, and dont expect me to answer your calls.
Stan and Dennis came back only for a few bags. Colin stopped ringing, and Mum called just to accuse me of being selfish.
Selfishness isnt about thinking only of yourself, I told her, its about demanding everyone think of you first and yourself last. Think about that.
Maybe I didnt plan to overhaul my life so dramatically, but it happened anyway. A fresh start for a new me. A happy life, all because I said No.
