Teardown The Laundry

‘How long have you known?’ my son whispered up at me.

         ‘Known? Known what?’ I said, both of our eyes fixed on the woman tearing around the laundry with a sledgehammer.

         ‘That mum was going to go crazy.’

         ‘Oh, she hasn’t gone crazy,’ I chuckled nervously, wincing as she broke through the wall. ‘She’s just got some… renovation ideas.’

         ‘What ideas?’

         ‘Oh, you know,’ I scratched the back of my neck. ‘Ideas.’

         ‘For a laundry renovation?’ my son puzzled. ‘Which company does laundry renovations? Who even bothers with something like that?’

         ‘People who hate their laundries, I suppose.’

         ‘And that’s us?’

         ‘Apparently it’s your mother,’ I shrugged. ‘And your mother and I are a team, so… yes, that’s us.’

         We both watched in silence from the doorway as she dropped the sledgehammer to the ground, putting her hands on her hips with a satisfied smile.

         ‘Oh,’ she said, noticing us for the first time. ‘I didn’t think anyone would be home.’

         ‘It’s after five,’ my son said.

         ‘Oh,’ she repeated, frowning and pulling her phone out of a back pocket. ‘So it is. Is anyone hungry? I’m famished.’

         Leaving the sledgehammer behind, she strode toward us out of the destroyed room, heading for the kitchen.

         ‘Everything okay, honey?’ I asked, hesitantly.

         ‘Sure,’ she said, flashing me a quick grin. ‘I’m thinking steak for dinner?’

         ‘Yeah, that sounds nice,’ I nodded. ‘But, uh… what happened to the laundry?’

         ‘Oh, it’s fine,’ she laughed. ‘Just went where the muse took me.’

         ‘Who’s the muse?’ my son asked with a frown, and I quickly shushed him with my hand.

         ‘You know what,’ my wife said, brow furrowed thoughtfully at the ceiling. ‘I’m beginning to get some kitchen design ideas. Melbourne doesn’t have any laws about there needing to be windows in kitchens, do they?’

         ‘Uh…’

         ‘Interesting,’ she nodded to herself. ‘You’ll have to look after dinner, sorry,’ she said abruptly, heading to the bowl to grab her keys.

         ‘Where are you going?’ I asked her.

         ‘The hardware store, silly,’ she laughed. ‘I’m gonna need a bigger sledgehammer.’