Monday January 9th, 10:00pm
In bed. Emily asleep and snoring loudly. Dribbling with rain.
Emily and I had an arguement over breakfast this morning. We were at the table when I spotted a bargain in the newspaper.
“We have to buy this,” I said pointing at the newspaper excitedly. “A 1966, VW camper van, partially restored, needs a bit of work, but otherwise in good working order. Need to sell quickly. Best offer accepted. We need this, Emily.”
“We don’t,” she said, not even looking at me.
“This was our dream remember? When we first met, we said how amazing it would be to get a camper van and travel around the country, maybe Europe.”
“It would’ve been good, ten years ago, Harry, but it’s too late now.”
“Why is it too late?”
“Because we’re having a baby.”
“Even more reason to get it. The kid will love it. Holidays in the camper van. It will be our thing.”
“No.”
“Just like that, no.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Emily stopped eating her toast, closed the book she was reading and looked at me with that look. The look that says beware. The look that says stop talking, shut up and listen.
“Because this is just another entry on the long list of Harry’s wonderful ideas that will end up in the shed.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“The radio controlled airplane you bought two years ago and how many times did you use that?”
“That’s unfair because it broke during take-off and I haven’t got around to getting it fixed yet.”
“The skateboard, the roller blades, wind surfing?”
“Well, yes, but...”
“And where exactly is your wind surfing board at the moment?”
“Well, it’s in the shed, but...”
“Along with the calligraphy set you so desperately wanted.”
“Along with the calligraphy set you so desperately wanted.”
“It’s nice to want to write properly.”
“Model railway world?”
“It would’ve been incredible.”
“If it had made out of the box. Don’t you see, Harry, this is just another one of your great ideas that will end up cluttering up the shed.”
“But this is different.”
“That’s what you said about the worm farm.”
“Well, a VW camper wouldn’t fit in the shed!”
“No, it would sit on our driveway for years rusting away until I forced you to sell it. Listen, honey, I’m not trying to be difficult, but we don’t need this. You always get these silly ideas in your head, which was fine when it was small things and we didn’t have a baby on the way, but it’s time to grow-up and stop buying crap just because it’s your pipe-dream of the day.”
“But this is for the both of us.”
“Like the tandem bike you brought on eBay?”
“Well, yes, I grant you that didn’t exactly work out.”
“And what makes you think this will? It needs work and you know nothing about cars. You can’t even change the oil in the car we have.”
“I could learn.”
“You could, but you won’t. The answer’s no.”
“And that’s your final answer?”
“Yes.”
“Fine,” I said like a petulant child. “But just remember the next time you want to buy another pair of shoes that you’ll wear once and throw in the back of the wardrobe that we had this conversation.”
“Fine,” said Emily and then we finished our breakfast in silence. I really must clean out the shed.
This Thirtysomething Life: A Diary will be available to buy at http://ma2books.webplus.net/ next May.
Blog soon x
This Thirtysomething Life: A Diary will be available to buy at http://ma2books.webplus.net/ next May.
Blog soon x
