Читать книгу William Walker’s First Year of Marriage: A Horror Story - Matt Rudd - Страница 53

It’s been a long week. I get home late from work, am grumpy, am hot and bothered, am looking forward to a nice bath.

‘Don’t have a bath, have a shower.’

Here we go again.

It is only because Isabel is hugging me when she says this that there is no immediate bloodshed.

I consider a bath with a whisky after a long week at work to be one of man’s inalienable rights—a period of quiet reflection, contemplation and the making of amusing bubble-bath hats. But I considered sugar in goat’s-milk-free tea with a similar reverence until only a few days ago and look what happened to that.

‘Why not?’

‘It’s a waste of water.’

‘I want a bath though.’

‘One bath is the same as four showers.’

‘I’m having a bath.’

But as I sat in the bath, trying to enjoy my inalienable right, I knew its days were numbered. From the speed-date to the wedding, Isabel had never attempted to change me: it’s one of the reasons I love her. But now we’re married, we both sense a change. She is my wife, she has the power, she just doesn’t know quite how much power yet. Like a young Jedi knight, she will learn.