KITCHEN SINK DRAMAS
This week's photograph prompted three stories, two of them also inspired by a friend's recent experience of the strain lockdown can put on relationships. I hope none of them are too close to home for any of my readers.
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KITCHEN SINK DRAMA 1
“I really don’t understand why you did it, after all
these years.”
“That’s just it – years
of the same irritating little things are like Chinese water torture,
drip-drip-dripping until you could scream. At breakfast, for example, leaving
the lid off the marmalade, toast crumbs in the butter...”
“I agree that’s annoying, but...”
“Dirty socks on the
floor, changing channels without asking...”
“My Jim does that too, but even so...”
“He promised to fix the
tap months ago. I was making pastry with that drip getting louder and louder –
it was just his bad luck I was holding the rolling pin.”
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KITCHEN SINK DRAMA 2
Molly looked at Sadie in horror. “You’ll have to get
married.”
“What – and spend my
life chained to the kitchen sink? No way!”
“In my day nice girls saved themselves.”
“We’re not in the Dark
Ages now, Mum.”
“Have you told him?”
“Yes – he wants us to
get married, but I turned him down. He did this on purpose because I want a
career.” Sadie’s voice softened. “It’ll be okay, Mum – you’ll get your
grandchild, just not the mother-of-the-bride hat.”
Molly’s eyes strayed to the cupboard where she kept
her knitting patterns and Sadie knew she was weakening.
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KITCHEN SINK DRAMA 3
Belinda put his plate in front of Dennis – three bacon
rashers exactly in line with two perfectly-browned sausages, crisp fried bread cut into
meticulous triangles, the egg trimmed to a neat circle. She poured his tea and
started the washing up – Dennis hated eating with used pans in sight.
His shout startled her, “This is dirty!” and a knife whizzed
past her head to land in the bowl, cutting her hand. A bubble of rage burst in
Belinda’s chest and, without conscious thought, she threw it back, watching
with detached interest its slow-motion flight towards her husband.
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So there you have it, folks! My first impression of the photo was that it was of my own kitchen, but in fact it has more cupboards than mine, and any resemblance to my own home life is purely accidental. Thank you if you have read all three - feel free to state a preference - and apologies to Rochelle for breaking the 100 word rule - I don't do it often. :)
For thos who don't know what they are, this is a Smurf. My children used to collect little plastic models of them, and there are several films.
