Scene: Children and their mother sitting at the dinner table waiting for father to bring the dinner he has created from the kitchen. The cat plays happily under a nearby press. Mother notices that the cat is playing with a dead bird.
Mother and three children: Scream, dead bird, scream.
Father emerging from kitchen, grumpily, hands covered in breading: What?
Mother and children scream: The cat has a bird, the cat has a bird.
Father sighs, goes into the kitchen, washes hands, picks up a plastic bag, separates very peeved cat from the dead baby bird under the press and carries the bird to the bin. Then he washes his hands again and finishes making our dinner. You should know that it was not the father who insisted that the cat be added to the household.
Me: Michaela said she would never read a book by a nobel prize winner again after struggling through “The Year of the Death of Ricardo Reis.”
Him: Who’s Michaela?
Me: Remember the Swedish girl from the book club?
Him: Was she the giraffe? [A reference to a particularly tall but fortunately beautiful girl, also in the book club.]
Me: No, no, you must remember her, she’s the most beautiful girl I ever met. She looks like Michelle Pfeiffer.
Him: Nope, can’t remember her at all.
Me: Mr. Waffle has received a sum of money for his labours and I am afraid that he will spend it on unnecessary things.
Friend: Like clothes? No, no, I wouldn’t mind, if he spent it on something nice for himself, no I mean things we don’t really need.
Friend: Like what?
Me: Well, he really wants to buy a saw but I feel he’s already chopped down six trees with the old saw and there are only two trees to go.
Friend: He cuts down your trees?
Me: Well, yes.
Friend: I’d love a husband who cut down trees. What else did he spend the money on?
Me: He bought the children’s school books.
Friend: Really, that’s frivolous? I thought they had to have school books.
Me: Well yes, but, you know, not until September. He could have spent the money on going up in a hot air balloon now or something exciting.
Friend: Anne, buy the man a saw.
Sometimes, you need friends to point out to you things you can’t quite see yourself. Tell me about your virtuous husbands.