Begrudgingly becoming independent

In the two months that Mark has been away I’ve dealt with Alby being sick three times, travelled south three times, started Puppy Classes with Percy, laid grit down on the icy roads, headed the publicity for a Charity Christmas Fair, sorted out finances, cancelled insurance policies, organised a fast track passport, sorted out the dead battery on the car and now, have armed myself with a list of domestic appliance repair companies to call in the morning as my washing machine has busted.

Admittedly mum was there to help with the first dose of sickness, I waited until my dad came up to hang pictures on the wall, the publicity stuff is really just an extension of what I do at work and my part in getting the car fixed was simply phoning the AA and begging for help.  However, had I written a wish list of things I didn’t want to have to bother with I think the last two months would have seen everything ticked off and some.

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve always rated myself as being independent.  I started boarding school at 15, I’ve travelled solo and worked abroad.  I can do all of these things without breaking into a sweat but you know what, I’d rather not have to.  When it comes to DIY in the house I’m quite happy to let Mark take the lead.  It’s not about submitting to any anti-feminist agenda it’s about saying “I don’t have to be the queen of everything, you go ahead.  It would be my absolute pleasure to let you sort that kind of stuff out”. 

When the washing machine started to sound like a cheese grater had got caught in it at the beginning of a wash cycle I decided to feign temporary deafness however the red blinking “service” light cannot be ignored.  I’ve dug out the instruction manual, followed the troubleshooting section (which, for the record mentions only things like “appliance vibrating” and “detergent residue” and not the “metal on metal grinding” which I seem to be experiencing) and will have my fingers crossed that somebody will be able to come and take a look at it tomorrow sometime between 11am and 3pm.

For now, I’m off to cuddle a bulldog.