Saturday, September 15, 2012

THE PART-TIME WIFE

For the past twelve years I have been a part-time wife.
At first, three months on and three months off. Then every other week.
I was never looking for a full time position.
That's why I married a sailor.
I enjoy him for a while and, as soon as I tire, it is time for him to join his other family in Gibraltar or who knows where.
I imagine for him a parallel life, with a tall, blond and busty woman, that doesn't want any children(sort of like a Bond girl).
I assume they go out every night into the wee hours, in all the possible trendy clubs (that Gibraltar can offer) where they are on first name basis.
Here, on the other hand, early to bed after a bland dinner and an herbal tea.
The house they share must look immaculate and the furnishing is modern and sleek, possibly black and white, all glass and sharp surfaces, not a speck of dust in sight. The china is not chipped and the whine glasses all match. Nothing from a flea market, not even a flea. You could eat in the bathroom, it is so clean. You don't actually have to line up to get in.
The bed is not broken (it may even be a water bed).


No wonder the minute Sam iAm gets back every Tuesday he is pissed.
He says: " If this would be my ship, such mess would not be allowed!".
Guess what? This is his ship. The crew lacks subordination and threatens mutiny, but nevertheless...
After the first few scuffles I know he is happy to be home.
Every week we have to remind each other who we are and why we are together.
By the third day the honeymoon begins.
On day four Sam iAm doesn't even notice the mess and gladly contributes to it.
Assimilation completed.
When, on day six, is time for him to pack, I look at him with longing...... and (I must confess) a little bit of relief.

I am not worried, I know that when he is gone he is in good hands. The other woman is not a threat:
they didn't even break a bed!


P.S. Our own bed, after fourteen years and four children, prematurely collapsed (R.I.P).
Once a friend told me: " If you don't break a bed, it's not love!".
I can finally say to my friend: " Pinuccia, it is real love!!!!!"
(Even though the bed came apart because our four girls were jumping on it).


And by the way, the week when Sam iAm is gone, I am in good company.

The September issue.


Dedicated to Pi and to Edward (he knows why).





2 comments:

  1. Fantastica Barbara.... come sempre mi fai morire dal ridere!!!!!!!!!!!!
    Luisa

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  2. Grazie Luisa.Il mio letto e' tenuto assieme dal nastro adesivo.

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