Dear husband,
I accidentally drove our car straight into the neighbour’s front gate yesterday.
Now that I have your FULL attention, WE NEED TO TALK.
I’m sorry it had to come to this but since my voice resembles neither that of your own mother nor football commentators, and since nothing could come between you and your mobile phone whenever you’re home, we’re back to the good old days of letter-writing.
I took a look at myself in the mirror yesterday. There were three extra strands of white hair (!), eye bags (permanent features on my face) and cracked lips (!!). So take this as my most subtle hint for a facial appointment real soon, before neighbours start wondering when did you trade the sweet young thing you married for a crazy-looking woman who looks like she hasn’t seen daylight for months. But that’s not the main point I’m trying to make here – I know how hard it’s for you to be working around the clock just to make sure I get to stay at home. Meetings after meetings, deadlines, targets and all, which is why I pretended not to have seen that new watch you just bought (YES I saw it!). Because I know how much it means to you and you truly deserved it (and not because I Googled it and found out how much it cost).
And then the plates. Not the ones you broke and tried to dump into the neighbour’s dustbin. The ones you “washed”. I cannot tell you how much I appreciate you chipping in and doing the dishes last Thursday but the kiddo managed to draw a smiley face on it the next day and her little finger was coated with oil. That’s all, just wanted to let you know so that “necessary corrective actions can be undertaken”. And don’t you dare suggest it having anything to do with my “oily cooking”.
Your parents came by yesterday. Your mom must have told you how she nearly tripped while avoiding Lego on the floor. I saw her frowning. And I could hear her thinking aloud, especially when she accidentally sat on the pile of unfolded clothes on the sofa. It wasn’t a nice sight and I knew I should’ve done better. But, like you said, the whole point of “staying at home” is for the kid, not for the house. Correct?
So that brings us to the next topic: your mobile phone. You have no idea how many times I’ve tried to hide it so yeah, it really wasn’t the kid. But the point is, hold her instead. Because soon she’ll be too embarrassed to be seen near you. Read her a book. Spend time with her because this is the only time that she will listen to everything you say, without talking back. Give her half an hour every night. And give me 30 uninterrupted minutes to be in the washroom – not too much to ask for, I think.
And now for the serious stuff. Although our daughter can drive me up the wall sometimes, I know I’m lucky to be able to be at home and spend time watching her grow. Just like you, I’ve never been good at expressing myself verbally but I just wanted you to know that I’m grateful to have this luxury that no branded bags, shoes or clothes in this world can even come close to. Although, there’s this new kitchen gadget that I’ve been eyeing for the past 5 months and it’s now on promotion until end of the week.
Looking forward to your favourable reply.
Your wife.
P/s: I could’ve just asked you when you’re in the middle of conquering lands and expanding your virtual kingdom but hey, it’s all about trust.
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Lai San is an ex-marketer living in Jakarta but her heart has never left KL. Mother to 3 years old Doughnut, she is close to a total cure of her OCD with a toddler to clean up after at home. When not stuck in a jam, she writes freelance as a cover up for her total inability to cook, bake or sew.
