Aren't I Allowed to Complain?

“THE SIGHING AND the groaning only makes it worse,” says Jocasta, referring to the sounds I make while hopping out of bed in the morning.

- Richard Glover

It’s true that I commence with an “oomph” as I move to an upright position, then an “ahhh” as I swing my legs off the bed, followed by an “arrrrrrrgh” as I get to my feet.

Then there’s an “oh God” as I realize that my knees are, once more, unequal to the task they’ve been set.

Jocasta believes in positive thinking. “All this complaining will simply make you feel worse,” my wife says. “If you act like a young gazelle, leaping across the savannah first thing in the morning, then you’ll feel like a young gazelle. It really is that simple.”

I’m guessing Jocasta doesn’t know many young gazelles, at least not ones with aching knees, tired ankles, and a belly that can only be described as ‘third trimester’.

I decide to annoy her in the time-honoured manner of husbands everywhere. I will follow her instructions, but to the power of 10. If she wants positive thinking, she’ll get positive thinking.

The curtains are first. I fling them open, allowing sunlight to flood the room. “What a beautiful morning!” I say in a too-cheerful voice. “The sun in all its majesty is commanding its troops to get going! Why the frown, darling? Why the blinking against the glorious light?”

Jocasta sighs. “Just make a cup of tea, will you?”

I turn on the kettle, then pop my head back through the door.