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That night, I prepared a special dinner of steak and potatoes in anticipation of good news about the house as I mumbled to myself. The children were already in bed, having had their dinner and bath. My husband came home for dinner and was in a quiet mood. He told me that he had received a call that we did not get the house or the job. He declined the steak, had an apple and decided to just have an early night. He reassured me that he was tired, not beaten. So I had dinner by myself, had chocolates for dessert by myself and talked to myself the entire evening. Exhausted by talking to myself all day, I then crawled into bed.

“Honey…” I crooned as I laid next to my husband after putting the two kids in bed.

“Yes…?” he answered suggestively.

“I need to ask you a question…”

“Ooooohhh, are we playing Teacher and Student tonight?”

“More like a young mother who is lost …and ….?”

“and…I’m the Policeman?”

“More like my therapist!”

“You are so naughty! And it’s not even Saturday night!” he murmured as he snuggled closer to me and he puts his hand on me.


“OKAY!” he flicked the lights off.

“NO OFF ME! Get off me!”

“Hmmmmm….” He mumbled.

“I really need to ask you a question!”

“And I thought you wanted to cheer me up!” he said and I glared at him, “Okay, okay, what’s the emergency now?”

“Do you think I need a therapist?”


“I found one who only charges $120 an hour…”

“WHAT? 120? For what?”

“I just want to know if I am doing the right thing… I need to talk to someone…”

“What? It’s only been 48 hours since Ethan started his first day.”

“Really? I thought it has been 48 YEARS already,” I said sarcastically.

“I talk to you.”

“You’re busy looking for work. How is that going, by the way?”

“It’s a little tough but I did meet this one guy, Peter and …”

“See this is what I mean, you get to meet and talk to other adults like Peter. You don’t like talking about what I like to talk about…like if Ethan is constipated and…”

“Sounds like you need a friend, honey.”

“A friend?”

“Yes, Mummy friends.”

Then I looked at my partner who could sometimes dazzle me with his subtlety and brilliance or NOT.

“I am an adult. Adults do not need friends, well, new friends anyway.” I huffed.

“You need a friend to gossip, to go shopping, to wax your armpit hair, to go to the bathroom with…”

“WHAT? I don’t need company to go to the bathroom.”

“Sure, honey,” he said as he stroked my hair, “You just need someone to talk to about missing Ethan while you sit on the potty. You need someone to have coffee and cake with and not feel guilty. You need someone to tell you the gossip while you help the children with their schoolwork. Come on…honey…”

“I know…” I whimpered, “Just don’t know if I am doing the right thing.”

“Why do you women always need a cheering squad all the time? You girls always need a team, even when going to the toilet.”

“I know…maybe we should go back?”

“Look at me,” he said gently.

“No…I am not in the mood now.”

“Look at me now!” he commanded and I turned towards him, rather reluctantly.

“We can NEVER go back,” he said, “We decided that.”

“YOU decided that…”

“You agreed. YOU have to do this, do you understand?”


“No more whining! I WILL get a job and we will get a house. And you WILL get a REAL friend. A real god to honest friend who drinks, plays golf…”


“You know what I mean. A real friend who will chat with you about ornaments but will also help with the kids and…”

“Yes, I guess you’re right. I don’t even know who’s a good doctor for the kids here.”

“You’re lucky your husband is approving your frivolous gossip time, non productive coffee mornings…”


“Okay okay…now draw up a game plan, do an Excel spread sheet, think about strategies and marketing plans, what’s your USQ..”

“My WHAT?”

“Unique Selling Point? Think about what’s so special about you and the USQ in person you want to befriend. So rather than running around like a headless chicken and scaring everyone with your crazed look, we target, focus and we move in…”

Looking at my husband with his all so male profoundness, tossing between hitting him or kissing him, I decide to smile instead, “You’re right, hon. I should just make a plan and do it. Find a Friend.”

“Not sure if it will make you normal though…”

“Shut up!” I slapped him again, “It will be “Find a Aussie Fairy Godfriend”, a friend who’s going to teach and help me with all things motherly and Aussie.

“Yeah, like when you boiled those sausages…”

“How do I know they were meant for the bbq?

“And when you slapped an inch of vegemite on our rice?”

“Well, they said goes with anything? Okay, okay, I already said you are right!”

“Of course I am right. I go look for work. You look for friend. I earn money, you spend it and talk. Like normal marriages,” he said.

“I don’t like that word.”

“Marriage or normal? And besides I save $120 as well.”

“Thanks,” I said as I kissed him.

The lights went off and there was a knock on the door and a tiny voice whining.

“Told you it’s not Saturday yet.” I said as I pushed him off.

“I’ll pay you $120…”

“Don’t think we even have that much in the bank…” I laughed.

“Mummmyyy…” a small voice whined.

“You can’t beat THIS price, hon,” I kissed him fondly on his forehead as Lizzy jumped into our bed and snuggled between us.



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