Well, it was a bit of a pants week last week I don’t mind telling you! As I mentioned in my last post, Pud has been teetering on the brink of losing his job for the last couple of weeks and so it finally came to pass on Wednesday when he was informed that his twenty five-plus years of service were no longer required and that he could now consider himself well and truly redundant.
I can’t say that this has come as a complete shock in the Pud Residence as we’ve been half expecting this news for some time. I am, however, surprised at how quickly and ruthlessly the end came….two weeks ago the company announced they’d gone into administration and needed to find a buyer and almost immediately after that – BAM, don’t bother coming in tomorrow night, or indeed any other night as the company has folded and none of you have a job anymore!
We’re all dealing with the news in different ways – Eddy is worried that we’re immediately going to run out of food. ‘Don’t you worry kid,’ I’ve reassured him, ‘as long as we have eggs, flour and milk in the house you’ll never go hungry.’ Strangely enough this hasn’t placated him…..perhaps memories of the last batch of leathery pancakes and capsized, soggy bottomed Yorkshire puddings I made is still all-too fresh in his mind.
Molly has taken the news that we won’t be able to go abroad with the rest of the family in October on the chin…..much better in fact than the realisation that now Pud’s not working shifts any more, he’ll be at home every night and she’ll no longer be able to watch those trashy programmes that she normally switches over to as soon as he leaves for work of an evening.
Pud’s a changed man already. Of course he’s scared of what’s around the corner and he can’t yet comprehend that he’s not going in to work tomorrow after working all his life but thanks to his canny monetary ways (some might say he’s a tight bugger but I couldn’t possibly comment) and some redundancy money, we’ve got a bit of time before Eddy has to resort to eating nothing but homemade batter products. He’s certainly more cheerful than he’s been in a long time – in fact Molly and I have already nicknamed him ‘Fun Dad’ and we give each other a quick wink and thumbs up behind his back when he’s cracked yet another funny joke. But it’s good to see. If anyone else’s partner works night shifts then you might have some inkling of the monster spawned both physically and emotionally from working such unsociable hours! The downside of course is that I won’t get the bed to myself anymore. Oh well, every silver lining has a cloud I suppose.
It’s quite an unsettling time for us alright. I might have to work more hours, while Pud becomes a stay at home Dad. This thought actually terrifies me more than having no money. He once started to boil some easy-cook rice for dinner a whole hour before I got home from work. Imagine my delight at the starchy mass of pulp glued to the saucepan upon my return. Not to mention (but I will and I make no apologies for my persistent dining out on this tale) my new knickers that mysteriously went missing one day. I thought perhaps our neighbour may have taken a fancy to them hanging on the washing line in all their glory (probably drooping by the gusset if Pud had pegged them out) but as she was a little old lady who frequently wielded a walking stick, the chances of her hopping over our fence and pilfering them were pretty slim. When I still couldn’t find them after a few days, I casually asked Pud if he’d seen them.
‘Oh them,’ he started, ‘well…..I had a bit of an accident. They weren’t completely dry when I got the washing in so I put them in the microwave to finish them off.’ And finish them off he did…..they melted faster than the Wicked Witch of the West. As did my marital tolerance levels.
So it’s fair to say that the next few months will be a challenge. Pud and I have to learn to live together again when we’ve become used to spending a lot of time apart. Our approaches to everything in life are different in so many ways and of course my way is the best. At the moment we’re in the honeymoon period – ‘Ooops, sorry I’ll be out of your way in a minute’ or ‘No of course I don’t mind if you want to both listen to and watch cricket at a very high volume in two different rooms’ etc – but I just know that it won’t be long before one of us cracks and temporarily runs for the hills quicker than you can say ‘have you microwaved my pants again?’
But it’s also an exciting time in weird kind of way. We’ve been bumbling along for the last twenty years, neither of us brave enough to untangle ourselves and emerge from the cosy blanket of our hassle-free lives and suddenly that decision has been made for us.
I have no idea what’s in store and I’m sure it will all work out just fine. But in the meantime, I’m going to be stocking up on flour and eggs.
Just in case………..