‘Do we really need a new kitchen?’ my husband asked me, in the same exasperated tone he always got halfway through a home renovation. ‘What was wrong with the last one?’
‘Nothing was wrong with it,’ I laughed. ‘Don’t be silly. It just could have been better.’
‘How?!’ he shook his head. ‘It was better than literally any other kitchen I’ve ever been in. The benchtop was bigger than some of the apartments I’ve lived in.’
‘Exactly,’ I nodded. ‘Didn’t it just feel… extravagant?’
He sighed so hard I was genuinely expecting him to pass out.
‘Just promise me,’ he started, rubbing his temples. ‘Promise me that this is the last of the kitchen renovations that you’re going to put me through.’
‘Oh, Charlie,’ I laughed, wrapping him up in a hug. ‘You know I can’t promise that.’
I let him go and sauntered down the hallway to where the contractors were pulling apart our master bedroom and bathroom.
‘Where’s that tile I ordered?’ I called out to nobody in particular. In truth, I wasn’t expecting any tile, but it did seem like the perfect thing to say at the time.
‘We’re getting new tile?’ Charlie asked, exasperatedly. ‘We spent hours picking the last tiles!’
‘And just think how much fun that was!’ I giggled, clapping my hands together. ‘We get to do it again!’
‘I don’t want to do it again!’ he cried out. ‘I’m exhausted. I just want to sleep in my own bed and use a shower that isn’t connected to a garden hose!’
‘I thought you loved pretending we were the top bathroom designers in Melbourne,’ I blinked at him, tears forming in my eyes. ‘Are you saying… are you saying this isn’t the life you wanted?’
He looked at me, utterly agape.
‘Of course not!’ he shrieked. ‘Who would want this?!’
‘I do!’ I shouted back. ‘We’re living my dream!’
Silence rang out around the house, as the tradies unashamedly listened in.
‘Well,’ Charlie whispered. ‘Your dream… it’s my nightmare.’
He stormed away.