Often when it gets crazy at home which is a great deal of the time my husband and I will look at each other and chorus: “We need a holiday!”
There is however, a new rule in our household that there will be no more holidays by ourselves. Well, actually my husband will no longer be able to take holidays by himself. I am the exception to this rule naturally.
Let me explain why I am enforcing this new draconian according to my husband rule.
My husband LOVES skiing. Loves it the way I love chocolate. However it’s slightly more expensive than chocolate. So while he talks in longing terms of the trips we used to take when we lived in the UK, they’re not really an affordable option here.
But earlier this year through the frequent flyer points he gained from travel for work and the begging and pleading of his friend I relented and said he could take a ski trip.
He booked the trip and I gave him my blessing.
“Go,” I said.
“Have a good time,” I said
“There’s just one thing you have to promise me.”
“Anything,” he said lovingly.
“Swear you’ll come back in one piece.”
“Of course,” he said laughing.
Now we duly discovered the trip had been booked DURING school holidays which meant I had all three offspring at home ALL DAY, EVERY DAY. Coupled with that I had just started my new job.
But did I complain?
No I did not.
I remained sunny and cheerful when he called me.
I gaily told him cheerful anecdotes about the EXCITING things we were doing while he was away. Like cleaning out the kitchen pantry.
And for EIGHT long days we carried on this way.
And on the ninth and final day he broke his fucking shoulder in two places.
I could have killed him.
He has been unable to help me out with many of the domestic duties that make life so much easier.
Thinking about that, I may still kill him.
And that my friends is why I need a holiday.
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