10th December
The girls were tucked up in bed and Molly by way of some small miracle, had managed to shower in peace. She looked across to the flashing colourful lights on the Christmas tree.
She decided it was time for her and Julian to have another chat. He was mindlessly staring at the latest episode of Gogglebox while Molly removed a rogue dog hair from the rim of her glass.
You could have quite literally cut the air with a knife. Molly felt a strange sense of calm and was certain she would be able to get her point across this time without it ending in a fight. She was wrong.
‘Why are you looking at me like that? What on earth have I done to piss you off this time?
Molly put down her glass of wine and reached for the remote. ‘Don’t touch it. I was watching that.’
Molly’s state of clam was slowly fading as she turned to face her husband. She snatched back the remote. ‘We need to talk Julian. I am exhausted and fed up.’
His phone alerted to him to a notification. ‘It’s work. It might be important.’
‘Julian, this is important. I’m serious. Please put your phone down.’
The sound of him slamming his phone down on the coffee table made her jump. ‘Jesus Christ, Molly. What? What is it?’
Molly hated the fact that she got emotional when she was angry. She fought back bitter tears, threatening to spill over any second. ‘I get no help with the girls Julian, and don’t get me started on everything else that needs to get done around here to keep this family ticking along.’
‘Here we bloody go again. You are starting to sound like a broken-down record. It’s getting old.’
She slowly counted to ten in her head. She had lost track of how many times she had tried to discuss the heavy burden of carrying the family mental load. ‘I do everything around here. Cook, clean, write shopping lists, do the shopping, drop off and pick up the girls, do the laundry, feed the dog. The list never ends Julian. Now it’s bloody Christmas. My work load just explodes and you don’t seem to notice, or even care. I work full time too you know……’
‘Mummy. Can I have a drink.’ Bella appeared at the top of the stairs.
She waited for Julian to answer or acknowledge Bella. ‘I am so sick of this conversation Molly. I work hard at my job and I will have you know, only last week I emptied the dishwasher.
Molly stood up and started waving her arms around in a theatrical manner. ‘Oh, great. Thanks for that. I’ll just call the New South Wales Premier, shall I? I will let him know there needs to be a last minute change to the New Year’s Eve fireworks this year.
‘Can I pleeeeeaaasse have a drink.’
Julian seemed oblivious to Bella’s presence. ‘What the hell do fireworks have to do with anything?’
‘Mummy?’
Still no acknowledgment of Bella from her father. ‘Well, Julian. I just thought they could project the following words onto The Harbour Bridge pylons to acknowledge your efforts. Wait for it. ‘A big thank you to Julian Tindale of western Sydney for emptying the dishwasher last week.’
He got up and headed upstairs, stepping over both Bella and Cookie as he went. ‘You're being bloody ridiculous Molly. I’m going to bed.’
She shouted up the stairs from the kitchen while she fetched Bella a cup of juice. ‘Or better yet. Let’s wait until March. We could ask the City of Sydney Council to cancel Mardi Gras this year and hold a fucking ticket tape parade in your honour instead.’
Hayley Walsh (c) 2024