A Hand with the Dishes
I phoned him a week ago and we exchanged pleasantries.
“All well. Except, I’m in the dogbox of late.”
He went on to recount how he had fallen out of favour with his wife. Her sister from England had been staying with them for ten days.
“You know how I pull my weight around the house? When I retired, I took on some of the household chores, like washing the dishes. Well, one morning, the wife had gone shopping, I was at the sink dealing with the aftermath of breakfast, when my sister-in-law came into the kitchen to make herself a cup of coffee. We talked about the weather and her plans for the day, and then, after a while, as if to make conversation, she said, ‘You know, whenever I come into the kitchen, I find you standing at the sink washing up. It’s as if that is all you ever do. It’s kind of sad.’
‘Sad?’ I said, a little irritated. ‘So, you think I lead a wretched existence, do you?’
‘No, not at all,’ she said, trying to back-peddle. I would never describe your life as wretched. Who uses that word anymore? It sounds biblical.’
‘I think it sounds Dickensian,’ I said. It was at this point that the idea popped into my head.”
“What idea? Is this what got you into trouble?”
“Yes. You see, I wasn’t particularly flattered by being described as sad. It wasn’t good for my ego, so I said to her as I scoured the porridge pot, ‘You know, it’s funny, but when Barbara was with us a year ago….’”
“Who is Barbara?” I asked him.
“She is my wife’s other sister; the youngest. Anyway, I told her that when Barbara was staying with us, she had also found me rather pathetic, forever in the kitchen washing up. This was when I threw discretion to the wind and fabricated a scene for her. I told her I said to Barbara, ‘If you feel sorry for me, and would like to brighten up my humdrum day, you could come and give me a little pleasure while I stand here with my hands in soapy water.’”
“Jesus! How did she react?”
“Who? Barbara? No, in reality I never propositioned her.”
“Yes, I get that. I mean the other sister. What did she say? Or do?”
“She was silent for quite some time, then I heard her push back her chair and she came and stood behind me. I think she was trying to control herself before saying or, rather, snarling in my ear, ‘Not only are you sad and pathetic; you are DISGUSTING!’ And she flounced out of the kitchen.”
“She told your wife, I take it?”
“Of course. I attempted to pass it off as a misunderstanding, and that I had meant it as a joke, but that got me nowhere.”
I tried to visualise what he had just described.
“What would you have done if she had reacted differently? If she had taken you seriously and been sympathetic and agreed to give you a hand with the dishes?”
“Mmm. That’s a tricky one. What would you do in such a situation?”
We acknowledged that one would be faced with a difficult moral dilemma, and tacitly agreed to drop this line of speculation, for there were other matters to discuss.
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