It must have been many years ago now, towards the end of a week, when my wife and I went over to her parents home for a Sunday dinner. That evening was when the misunderstanding took place.
It began in the usual manner, all of us gathered around the dining table chatting about all sorts of things. Yet somehow, the conversation drifted to my employment, and my wife brought up whether I ought to change jobs.
Truth be told, her concern wasnt entirely out of the blue. You see, we had been considering building a swimming pool at my parents house for ages. This year, my wife finally decided there was no point in postponing it any longer.
We were also thinking about exchanging our old car for something newer before winter set in, and looking forward to a seaside holiday the following summer, as we hadnt been for three years. Of course, in our family, I was the sole breadwinner.
I never minded that arrangement, referring to my job rather than the situation, and certainly had no complaints. But the company I worked for was encountering difficulties, letting some people go and, for those who remained, slashing the salariesfor an indefinite period.
So, I explained we had a bit put aside, but it would only stretch to a modest holiday by the coast, and, depending on prices, maybe the most basic vehicle from the list wed set our eyes on.
She, however, made her parents pool the priority over our own plans. I voiced my disapproval, and the conversation ended with her accusing me of laziness and unwillingness to search for a better job so the family could afford everything.
And at the dinner table, the same matter cropped up again. I couldnt keep calm, and rather briskly told her parents they already received a fair bit of support from us each month. Carried along by frustration, I blurted out that the whole meal had probably been put together almost at my expense.
I should never have said that, but by then the line had been crossed. In that moment, staring down at the sour soup in front of me, my wife began an emotional tirade. She was so offended that she started voicing all sorts of opinions about me. I didn’t listen long; I quietly left and walked home.
Once there, I packed her belongings and took them to her parents. If anyone asks, I believe such behaviour and words are unacceptable, and I wish she hadn’t started such arguments. Now, sitting at home, my thoughts are a muddle. To this day, I still dont quite know what to do next.
