Day 11
After six weeks of lockdown, I finally lost it and had a blazing row with the missus over a trivial issue.
'Have you got a cheque book handy ?'
'No.'
'What – you don't have a cheque book ?'
'I have a cheque book somewhere but I haven't used it in years so it isn't handy, no'
'Hmm OK. Well, I can't find mine and I need to write a cheque for the man from the allotment'.
'I'll have a look later'.
We eat dinner. Time passes.
'Any more thoughts about your cheque book ?'
'Any more thoughts ? Well, not really, no'.
'I really would like to post the cheque to Richard tonight'
'Why ? When is he next going to the allotment ?'
'Next Wednesday'
'So why does he need a cheque tonight ?
'Well I think it's just polite to give him the money upfront.'
'OK. OK. I'll go and look now.'
I go upstairs and fail to locate a legacy cheque book.
'Sorry, no. It's not where I thought it was'.
'Hmm – OK but Richard has asked for £26.76 via a cheque'
'OK – so where's your cheque book ? Have you looked in your in-tray ?'
'Yes – nothing in there'.
'Can't Richard receive a bank transfer ? We just need an account and sort code'.
'No – he was insistent on a cheque'.
'Christ – OK. This is like dripping water tap torture. Does he really need it now ?'
I go to my in-tray, rifle through assorted bills, papers, letters and finally uncover a cheque book clad in a black Midland bank plastic wallet.
'Here, here is a cheque. Hurrah ! We can finally placate Richard and the allotment committee. For Christ's sake'.
'Well there's no need to be so aggressive about it. I just asked for a cheque. What's wrong with you ?'
Wife writes a cheque. Thankfully she doesn't ask me for a pen. She then leaves the house to hand deliver the cheque for the princely sum of £26.76 to Richard from the allotment for goods and services unknown.
We then sit in an awkward silence for 3 hours watching four episodes of the Norwegian drama – 'Twin'.
The wife then gets her in-tray out as part of her ongoing, endless, unceasing de-cluttering, tidying and domestic goddess initiative (in a vain effort to replace social interaction and gossiping over coffee with her friends).
'Oh look. Here is a brand new cheque book I have never used. I never knew this was here'.