As a reporter, I am often on deadline.
And as often my wife will call as I race to get the news out.
She makes requests or insights, and I let them go in one ear and out the other, too busy to take her into account. My attention is on the story and my response into the phone is, “Yeah, yeah, yeah.”
But it happens.
And now the other way round.
My wife has started her own business after eight years of being a full-time mum of our three young children, all under the age of eight. She makes Lazydays Paravientos, or windbreaks, as well as beach mats and other beach gear. She and a partner hit the sewing machines in the morning and then hit the beaches in Pinamar to sell. The windbreaks are gaining attention on the coasts of Argentina and Uruguay (a few are up, and that’s a good start) and she’s got me to drive down to help a buyer put their new purchase up in a few minutes flat. The windbreaks do what they say they do: they shield you from the fast winds that hit these shores.
The trouble, of course, is that the windbreaks are making my life a bit faster.
Gone are any notions of my lazy days as a husband.
I called my wife the other day to tell her something of importance.
“I can’t talk right now,” she said.
Then she was gone.
Payback! It’s a shit, but after years of serving it up, it is well deserved. Not that my thoughts can linger much on the subject. I have to make lunch and do the dishes because my wife has to fill a bunch of orders by the end of the week.
Let’s go, kids. There’s no time to laze about.