to
discuss.
It came about because at bathtime Peter kept
banging on about how Daddy was going to be on TV,
and although I tried to calm him down, it was obvious
to Sally that it had been a topic of conversation between
the children and me. By the time we had finished
processing Peter and Daisy, and had tucked them up
etc., I could see Sally was looking thoroughly hacked
off, and when we got down to the kitchen I decided to
have it out with her.
'You really don't want me to do it, do you?'
'What?'
'The WonderHubby programme.'
'I didn't think it was necessarily happening,' she said.
'I thought it was going to be pitched to the TV channels
first.'
'Yes, but Dom thinks there's a good chance of a pilot
being commissioned.'
'Does he now?'
'Yes.'
'And will you be paid for this pilot?'
'I don't know,' I replied, expressing genuine
ignorance. 'I assume they'll bung me something,
because the TV company needs a budget to actually
make the thing.'
'How much money do you think they will "bung"
you?'
'I have no idea.'
A Sally sigh.
'I don't want to rain on your parade . . .' she began.
'Yes you do,' I interrupted. 'You always do whenever
I have these ideas.'
'But Sam, your ideas are often a little, you know, off
the wall. Remember how you wanted to be a fireman?'
Flashback to my Near Death Experience on the
ladder, when I had flirted with the idea of becoming a
volunteer fireman the year before last, despite my fear
of heights. A shudder.
'Yes I do. But I gave it a go, and it didn't work. All I'm
saying is that I want to give this a go. And, if it doesn't
work, I've tried it, and it's out of my system. But, if it
does work, then great, it means some money, perhaps a
lot of money.'
'But Sam, I don't see you as a TV personality. I'm
sorry, I just can't see it working at all. And if you want
my honest opinion, then I'd say the whole thing is a
waste of time, and it's stopping you getting on and
trying to find some proper part-time work that you can
fit in around the children. Come on Sam, that's not so
unreasonable.'
I rubbed my eyes, trying to wish away the whole
conversation.
'There is barely any work out there,' I said.
'You haven't looked!'
'I have.'
'When?'
'When?' I replied. 'When you've been at work! When
do you think? But there's nothing there – eff all. So
what am I supposed to do? What do you want me to do?
Sell jam? Join the W fucking I?'
'Of course not! I just want you to try to do something
that is realistic and, more importantly, will bring us in
some regular money. This WonderHubby thing is such a
long shot and so unstable, I don't think we've got the
luxury of you taking a punt like that.'
'It's not taking a punt. All I'm doing is giving it a go.
Taking a punt suggests that we're losing something if it
doesn't work. We won't be. We've got everything to gain.'
Sally sat at the kitchen table and flicked through an
old colour supplement. But I could tell she wasn't really
concentrating on it, she was merely collecting her
thoughts. In the meantime, I helped myself to a beer,
offered her something to drink, got the 'glass of white
wine' I was expecting, and gave it to her. All very civil.
'My other worry is that it does work,' said Sally.
'Oh great,' I went. 'Fucked if it fails, buggered if it
works.'
'Think about it, Sam, how will you be able to look
after Peter and Daisy if you're off filming your exciting
TV show? Have you thought about that?'
I hadn't.
'Of course I have,' I said.
'And?'
'And what?'
'And what will you do with them while you're
management-consulting all those oh-so-grateful
families? Leave them with a nanny?'
'No,' I said. 'I thought I'd leave them with the
Gruffalo.'
'Don't be flippant.'
'I'm not. Of course I'd leave them with a nanny! Who
else did you expect I'd leave them with?'
Sally held up her hands to stop me.
'I always thought,' she said, in a tone of great forced
calm, 'that the whole point of the way we were doing
things was that we didn't have to have a nanny,
discuss.
It came about because at bathtime Peter kept
banging on about how Daddy was going to be on TV,
and although I tried to calm him down, it was obvious
to Sally that it had been a topic of conversation between
the children and me. By the time we had finished
processing Peter and Daisy, and had tucked them up
etc., I could see Sally was looking thoroughly hacked
off, and when we got down to the kitchen I decided to
have it out with her.
'You really don't want me to do it, do you?'
'What?'
'The WonderHubby programme.'
'I didn't think it was necessarily happening,' she said.
'I thought it was going to be pitched to the TV channels
first.'
'Yes, but Dom thinks there's a good chance of a pilot
being commissioned.'
'Does he now?'
'Yes.'
'And will you be paid for this pilot?'
'I don't know,' I replied, expressing genuine
ignorance. 'I assume they'll bung me something,
because the TV company needs a budget to actually
make the thing.'
'How much money do you think they will "bung"
you?'
'I have no idea.'
A Sally sigh.
'I don't want to rain on your parade . . .' she began.
'Yes you do,' I interrupted. 'You always do whenever
I have these ideas.'
'But Sam, your ideas are often a little, you know, off
the wall. Remember how you wanted to be a fireman?'
Flashback to my Near Death Experience on the
ladder, when I had flirted with the idea of becoming a
volunteer fireman the year before last, despite my fear
of heights. A shudder.
'Yes I do. But I gave it a go, and it didn't work. All I'm
saying is that I want to give this a go. And, if it doesn't
work, I've tried it, and it's out of my system. But, if it
does work, then great, it means some money, perhaps a
lot of money.'
'But Sam, I don't see you as a TV personality. I'm
sorry, I just can't see it working at all. And if you want
my honest opinion, then I'd say the whole thing is a
waste of time, and it's stopping you getting on and
trying to find some proper part-time work that you can
fit in around the children. Come on Sam, that's not so
unreasonable.'
I rubbed my eyes, trying to wish away the whole
conversation.
'There is barely any work out there,' I said.
'You haven't looked!'
'I have.'
'When?'
'When?' I replied. 'When you've been at work! When
do you think? But there's nothing there – eff all. So
what am I supposed to do? What do you want me to do?
Sell jam? Join the W fucking I?'
'Of course not! I just want you to try to do something
that is realistic and, more importantly, will bring us in
some regular money. This WonderHubby thing is such a
long shot and so unstable, I don't think we've got the
luxury of you taking a punt like that.'
'It's not taking a punt. All I'm doing is giving it a go.
Taking a punt suggests that we're losing something if it
doesn't work. We won't be. We've got everything to gain.'
Sally sat at the kitchen table and flicked through an
old colour supplement. But I could tell she wasn't really
concentrating on it, she was merely collecting her
thoughts. In the meantime, I helped myself to a beer,
offered her something to drink, got the 'glass of white
wine' I was expecting, and gave it to her. All very civil.
'My other worry is that it does work,' said Sally.
'Oh great,' I went. 'Fucked if it fails, buggered if it
works.'
'Think about it, Sam, how will you be able to look
after Peter and Daisy if you're off filming your exciting
TV show? Have you thought about that?'
I hadn't.
'Of course I have,' I said.
'And?'
'And what?'
'And what will you do with them while you're
management-consulting all those oh-so-grateful
families? Leave them with a nanny?'
'No,' I said. 'I thought I'd leave them with the
Gruffalo.'
'Don't be flippant.'
'I'm not. Of course I'd leave them with a nanny! Who
else did you expect I'd leave them with?'
Sally held up her hands to stop me.
'I always thought,' she said, in a tone of great forced
calm, 'that the whole point of the way we were doing
things was that we didn't have to have a nanny,
Similar Books
