“I’m not a chicken or a horse!” — how I put my lazy husband in his place
The moment I stepped out of the airport building, I was instantly soaked and freezing. Rain was pouring down, the wind was fierce — neither an umbrella nor a cap could protect me in such miserable weather. On top of that, my suitcase was terribly heavy: I had bought gifts for all the relatives in Germany. And the taxi I had called still hadn’t shown up. I called the dispatcher back.
“Oh, please wait just a little longer. The driver picked up a more profitable fare on the way. He’ll drop that passenger off and come straight to you.”
“Then let him keep doing his business,” I snapped. “I’m canceling the ride. I’ll manage somehow myself.”
In the end, I flagged down a private driver in an old Zhiguli, even though he charged a lot. But what else could I do — keep standing there getting colder and wetter?
At home
I told my husband about my unpleasant trip home and complained about the taxi driver’s irresponsible behavior.
“Couldn’t you have picked me up, Alyosha? You knew perfectly well what time my flight arrived — we were constantly in touch on Viber.”
“I was at the office. Darling, it would’ve been awkward to ask for time off. My wife goes traveling abroad, and I’m supposed to explain that to my boss?”
“Right, because I was relaxing at some luxury resort, not stuck in gloomy Dortmund attending boring work workshops,” I said sarcastically.
My husband started looking annoyed.
“Is there anything to eat, Natasha? I’m really hungry, my stomach is already reminding me.”
“Of course. I’ll boil some store-bought dumplings with potatoes. The package says they’ve also got calf liver inside. Pretty filling.”
“No, that’s not appetizing at all. You could make something homemade and tasty instead,” he grimaced. “You’re really good at that, I know.”
“Oh sure — stew some chicken or pork fillet, make a beef roast with green peas — right after the trip, before I’ve even changed clothes or washed my hands. And all the meat is frozen. You could easily have made dinner yourself — for both of us — by taking the food out of the freezer ahead of time. You’re an adult, an independent person. All of that is simple to cook. If you’d bothered, we could have had dinner together with pleasure. I just got back from a trip — when exactly am I supposed to whip up gourmet meals?”
The next day I boiled some store-bought pelmeni. They didn’t turn out very tasty. I added plenty of ketchup, sprinkled them with dill and garlic, and served them.
“What kind of food is this again? You’re at home,” my husband said disapprovingly.
“As a matter of fact, just like you, I work. I’ll cook something proper by the weekend. Cabbage rolls, maybe. Or something simpler, but edible — not convenience food.”
He grimaced, but he ate anyway. On Thursday I fried some syrniki I had bought from a kiosk.
“Again, not the best meal,” Alyosha complained. “Will you pour me some milk?”
“As soon as we milk the bull,” I replied, using my grandmother’s favorite joke. “You drive a Ford that was bought, by the way, with our shared money. Why didn’t you stop by the store? They have milk there, and yogurt, and sour cream, and kefir. Plenty of everything else too. By the way, how much salary did you bring home this month?”
“Almost forty thousand… a little less,” he answered awkwardly.
“Well, I make eighty, for the record. And I ride home from work on a packed bus where there’s not even a seat — they’re all taken from the first stop. My coworkers’ husbands pick them up in cars. I envy them, honestly.”
“But gas is expensive now,” he objected.
“So the wife is cheap, then? Makes sense.”
“Public transport here is good, it runs on schedule. Why feel sorry for yourself?”
“I’m not feeling sorry for myself, I’m just horribly tired. I come home later than you every single day. Have you noticed that? I’m a deputy director, with two hundred people reporting to me. Do you have that many?”
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The moment I stepped out of the airport doors, I was instantly soaked and freezing. A terrible downpour, a strong wind — even an umbrella and a cap were useless in weather this miserable. And on top of that, my suitcase was incredibly heavy: I had bought gifts for all the relatives in Germany. But the taxi I had called still hadn’t shown up. I called the dispatcher back.
“Oh, please wait just a little longer. The driver picked up a more profitable fare on the way. He’ll drop off that passenger and then rush over to you.”
“Then let him keep going about his business,” I snapped. “I’m canceling the order. I’ll figure something out myself.”
I flagged down a private driver in a beat-up old Zhiguli, even though he charged a ridiculous amount. But what else was I supposed to do — keep standing there freezing and getting drenched?
At home
Once I got home, I told my husband about my awful travel ordeal and complained about the taxi driver’s irresponsibility.
“Couldn’t you have met me, Alyosha? You knew perfectly well what time my flight was landing — we’d been calling each other regularly on Viber.”
“I was at the office. My dear, it would’ve been embarrassing to ask for time off. My wife is off traveling abroad, and I’m supposed to discuss that with my boss?”
“Right, because I was relaxing at some elite resort, not stuck in that miserable city of Dortmund, sitting through idiotic master classes on a business trip,” I said sarcastically.
My beloved husband started pouting.
“Is there at least anything to eat, Natasha? I’m starving, my stomach’s growling.”
“Of course. I’ll boil some store-bought vareniki with potatoes. The package says they’ve got calf liver inside too. Filling enough.”
“Ugh, what disgusting stuff. You should make something homemade, something tasty,” he grimaced. “You’re great at cooking, I know your talents.”
“Oh sure — braise chicken or pork fillet, make beef roast with green peas, the moment I walk in the door without even taking my shoes off or washing my hands. All of that is frozen. You could easily have made dinner for yourself and your wife by taking the meat out of the freezer ahead of time. You’re an adult. A capable one. Homo sapiens, as they say. Everything I mentioned is easy to cook. You could’ve taken care of it, and then we both would’ve eaten with pleasure. I just got back. When exactly was I supposed to start making delicacies?”
The next day I boiled supermarket pelmeni. They were awful. I drowned them in ketchup, sprinkled them with dill and chopped garlic, and served them.
“What is this disgusting mess now? You’re at home,” my husband grumbled.
“As a matter of fact, just like you, I work too. I’ll cook something proper by the weekend. Maybe cabbage rolls. Or something simpler, but at least edible — not supermarket convenience food.”
He made a face, but ate it anyway. On Thursday I fried some syrniki I’d bought from a kiosk.
“Again with the inedible food,” Alyosha complained. “And can I have some milk?”
“As soon as they milk the bull,” I answered, the way my grandmother used to joke. “You drive around in a Ford. Bought with our joint money, by the way. So why didn’t you stop by the store? They sell milk there, yogurt, sour cream, kefir. Lots of other food too. By the way, how much salary did you bring home this month?”
“Almost forty thousand. A little less, actually,” he muttered, embarrassed.
“And I, by the way, make eighty. I ride home from work on a crowded bus. There’s nowhere to sit because all the seats are taken from the first stop. My coworkers get picked up by their husbands in cars. I’m green with envy.”
“But gas is expensive,” he objected.
“And a wife is cheap? Makes sense.”
“Our public transportation is excellent, it runs on schedule. Why feel sorry for yourself?”
“I’m not feeling sorry for myself — I’m just exhausted. I’m dead on my feet. I come home later than you every single day. Have you noticed that? I’m a deputy director. I have 200 people under me. Do you?”
“Only six,” he said, lowering his eyes and blushing.
A heart-to-heart with my parents
When I went to visit them, I complained to them about Alexei.
“I’ve noticed for a long time that he’s lazy and an absolute egotist,” my father declared.
My mother agreed:
“Tell me what your husband is like, and I’ll tell you what you are. A spineless creature! Either retrain him or divorce him. You’ll find another man. Such a beauty, and a successful woman too. No children. You’ll find someone.”
My friends at work said the same thing. It all boiled down to what my mother told me:
“What are you with a husband like that? A chicken and a horse rolled into one. Is that happiness?”
“Yeah, what a perfect combination,” I laughed, though by then I had already started thinking seriously about how sad the situation in our family really was.
Really, I was a weak-willed fool, and I certainly couldn’t call myself happy. Not a trace of my former love remained, though some affection for him was still there. Even before the wedding I had seen what he was like, but I’d hoped he would change.
I started re-educating him
I waited until Alyosha finished listening to his favorite program, took his laptop away, and invited him into the kitchen for a talk. He was surprised, but happily drank tea with the candies I offered him.
“Is there some kind of problem, Natalie?”
“Yes. And it’s sitting right across from me,” I answered calmly, smiling.
“What have I done? Drinking and cheating are out of the question. You’re the only one for me.”
“That’s true, but the happiness of family life has somehow evaporated. Should I really be the one hauling potatoes home from the supermarket? We only have enough left for one batch of mashed potatoes. I asked you to buy potatoes, beets, onions, beans, rice, and millet. Was that so hard? Roll the cart with the vegetables and everything else to the car, load it into the trunk, and bring it home. The security guard will take the cart back from outside, you don’t even have to return it yourself. Five minutes, that’s all.”
“Natashenka, I forgot. I’ll definitely do everything. It just slipped my mind.”
“I wrote the list a long time ago. It’s been sitting in your pocket for a week. I was counting on your help.”
“Tomorrow I’ll bring home everything on the list,” he said, slapping his forehead with his palm.
“And what about your tiny income? What do you have to say about that?”
“Management offered me a serious promotion. I’m just afraid of a position like that. The salary would be almost like yours. But the responsibility…”
“You can handle serious work. You’re not a baby. Get yourself out of that computer chair and do something respectable. Maybe then you’ll grow into an even more serious position. Right now this is like kindergarten. Your wife is teaching you how to be independent. Is that normal?”
“I understand, Natasha. I’m ashamed of myself too. You should have kicked me into shape earlier so I’d wake up.”
“Good, we’ve sorted out the major issues. Besides those, there are smaller things left. Before I get home from work, is it really so hard to pour detergent into the washing machine, throw in your clothes and mine, socks, underwear, bed linen? The machine does the washing while you sit there watching football or hockey and drinking beer. Meanwhile the robot vacuum goes around sucking up dust and washing the floors. Such exhausting labor, right? I don’t think so. The smart appliances do the work while you relax. And when you walk into the kitchen, do you notice the garbage bags overflowing? You should. The trash container is five steps away. I’m the one carrying them out after dark when I get home from work. So this is my family happiness.”
“My love, I’ll help with the housework, I promise. You’ve scrubbed my brain clean. You should’ve done it sooner. I’ve been making you unhappy.”
“Exactly. This is our shared life, and the household is shared too. Why should one person have to carry all of it? Wash your mountain of dirty dishes, start the laundry, and so on.”
When Alexei finally started bringing home a good salary, we at last managed to save up for a vacation in Italy. We visited Lake Como — unbelievably beautiful. Then we отдыхали in Spain. After that, I finally felt truly happy, especially when I found out I was pregnant. And when little Nastya was born and my husband started cooing over her so sweetly and constantly looking after her so I could sleep, I felt even happier.
