NOT GOOD ENOUGH (Part 1)

Three days after the birth of our baby, he lost his job. He didn’t tell me ,until I came home. The tension in the House got worse. I guess it was because he didn’t have much saved up. The pressure on him must have been intense. It was a good thing I had decided to go baby friendly.
That, would help to save cost! The only expenses we had to deal with were for food, diapers,
utilities and rent…which was still a whole lot!
He started a job hunt ,after about 2 weeks of being moody. He set out quite early in the morning
and came back early evening.
It was very hard, looking after a baby all alone, my breasts were often sore and my tummy hurt
often. My physical pain was made worse, by my constant state of fear. When he came home, he
usually walked in like the principal of a school ignoring my “welcome home”. He’d stand in
front of the mirror and stare at it looking for dust or finger prints. He would suddenly turn to me
and ask:
“Since I left this house this morning, what have you done?’ The first time he asked me this
question shortly after we got married, I had laughed and laughed and teased him about him
looking like the Labour prefect. I had laughed even more and asked him whether I looked like
the maid. He didn’t laugh back, in fact later, I came to understand that, that was exactly the
case, I was the Maid and he was my Master.
I had stopped laughing months ago. The question was no longer funny! Today, as usual I gave
him the reply I knew he wanted to hear -a list of all the chores I had engaged in. He did the usual,
walked around the living room with his arms behind, slightly bending over and looking critically
at the hairs of the carpet for signs of it having been swept thoroughly, then he would run his
fingers on the book shelf and TV still looking for dust. My heart would be in my mouth, praying
he wouldn’t find any dust. If he did find dust I’d be in trouble he would then go into the story of
how when he was young, his father used to paint their faces with dust if he found any on the
furniture. He threatened to do the same to me if I didn’t do a better job of dusting the furniture! My
heart often beat faster when he knocked on the door. My sadness worsened by the day my
memories of the laughter that there used to be before the marriage were thinning. I kept asking
myself how I got into this!

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