Letter to a trusted friend.

A true story shared!

My Dear Reader,

My Humiliating Weekend

 

I have had something of a calamitous, not to say humiliating, weekend. 

 

It started on Friday!  A mountain of vile, crushed, hardcore scoria had been delivered at my home.  It had to be shoveled and barrowed into the back garden to fill up the base of a vast patio my wife and I are creating.  When I arrived home from my part time job I saw Rose had already commenced part of the work and had taken quite a bit of rubble away and tipped it in the patio.  In a most condescending fashion I told her she had done well, and I even patted her head.

 

But, secretly I planned that the next day, I, the alpha male would reclaim my senior position in the home, by showing her how a real man would complete the job!

Saturday arrived and we both togged up.  I attacked the mound at once with a vigour you, dear reader, would have been proud of.  I slammed the shovel into the huge heap of rubble.  As the shovel end contacted with the moraine, a burst of incredible pain fired up my wrist and into my shoulder.  I kept the agony from showing in my wan face although  I did peek at her for a nanosecond and noticed a smile of what I can only describe as of a 'smug' nature upon her face.

 

In a ruse to detract her from my agony I doubled the work rate and was , by now, nibbling the pile from the base corners.  I filled a barrow and flew to the rear garden and tipped, tipped and tipped again.  Rose shoveled too and spread the hardcore level.  I can confess to you that within ten minutes I was lathered with sweat and my wrist throbbed alarmingly.

 

For more than an hour I kept up this frantic activity up but, by God , I had to think of something quick! 

 

 "Coffee?" I offered, inspired to desperation. “Good idea, huhh?" 

"Good  idea" she replied economically. 

You would not believe how swiftly I fled to make it and then slunk indoors like an exhausted fox. 

 Then later it was "Tea?"  Later still "Dinner?"

Yes I made the lot and stayed indoors to spent hours playing chess and on Writers Cafe.  Typing with one hand!

 

All day my wife plodded on at her own pace and by nightfall she had the base AND surrounding paths completed.  Every now and again she gave me a very smug grin.  I am not sure what to read in that!

 

Anyway its all over now.  I volunteered Sunday morning to go shopping and off I sped.  Rose sieved the rubble into small aggregates and top dressed the larger rocks with small stuff.  I returned quietly and  tidied the house with one hand!

 

Now, dear reader, I know I can rely on you to keep this to ourselves.  One female in particular, our mutual friend, has a thing about women being superior to men.  I don't want to get on the wrong end of Patricia's mocking laughter nor indeed her waspish temper!

 

So let's keep this ghastly news between the two of us!

 

Yours,(Still typing with one hand!!!)

 

Ron   

Reviews

[Cherrie Palmer]

lol Ron that was great, and Rose is the best of all :)

[Toon]

funny slice of life. very even pace. well written. i like it.

[marcie]

Hahahahaha and who was it who said women are the weaker sex lol I hope your wrist is better soon i hear washing up is good for aches and pains because of all that hot water lol. The funniest piece ive read in a while xx.

[Samuel Dickens]

Your secret is safe with me, Ron. I know how it is, brother. Us menfolk are programed from birth to be industrious human dynamos who get the job done, no matter what. After a lifetime of conquering enormous obstacles without fretting, (even though fractured bones may protrude or a few entrails drag upon the ground) all men, including you, are most definitely authorized to let the wife feel good about herself and take up the slack for you on rare occassions.

[little mermaid]

Ladies of the world unite to bestow an award for bravery and tenacity on …. our sister Rose.
Not just for her barrowing skills. She clearly has a lot to put up with – and love prevails (or you my dear would be buried under all that hard-core!) Ron you are the funniest! This letter is a winner! I laughed throughout and read it to my friend - who chortled happily and suggested I sue for defamation of character as I am undoubtedly a mere pussycat! Yayyyy!!
Patricia

[Thurston]

Ha. Ha. Ha. Ha. The One-Handed Alpha Male Strikes A Keyboard for Menkind!
We want a photograph of the pile! And I don't mean the carpet in the lounge. Ha. Ha.
Truthfully, I have not laughed so much at anything since I read" The Island My Uncle Arthur Left Me In His Will". ("Pardon?")
Self-deprecatory humour is always appealing. Yet as well, Ron somehow seems to get the character of the taciturn but quietly smiling Rose into this story, as well as his own sense of humour.
The thought of Ron inside writing Writers Cafe and a chess site nursing his wrist is too much. I have to go urgently. My wrist is throbbing.