THE RECORD

August 21, 1996

BACK TO THE EGG

Suzanne Trevis

REALITY

I am in the kitchen making spaghetti. The baby is crying so I pick her up and jiggle her on one hip as I add the onions and peppers to the sauce. I keep her in one arm while I twist, reach and stir with the other. Her sisters are at the dining table arguing over who owns what felts and markers. I tell them to hurry up and get their stuff off the table.

The baby goes down as I fill a saucepan for the noodles. She starts to cry and nearly trips me over as I turn to pop the garlic bread into the oven. Salad, I still have to make salad. I call to one of the girls to grab their baby sister, but they're still arguing so I bribe her with an arrowroot cookie then step around her to the 'fridge.

As I pull out lettuce etc. there's a knock at the door. Some lady selling photo packages. I tell her "Thanks, not today" and close the door just as the noodle water starts to boil over.

The noodles go in then its back to the other side of the kitchen to get out plates. They go on the table as I clear up the rest of the coloured pens and paper.

Then, from the living room I hear, "Hey, Hon. When you get a minute can you grab me another beer?"

Now I just spent a weekend assisting the husband with another household project. I know its OUR house and these jobs are for OUR benefit, but I can't remember the last time I cooked dinner just for myself.

VIRTUAL REALITY

I'm in the kitchen making spaghetti. The baby is crying so I call my husband in from in front of the TV to get her out of my way. I add the onions and peppers then ask him, "Did you see the wooden spoon, I'm sure I left it right here on the counter. You didn't move it did you, you know I hate it when you use my stuff and don't put it back."

He says he hasn't seen it. I ask the kids to get their stuff off the table. Dad comes over to give them a hand getting out of my way. I fill the saucepan for the noodles and put the garlic bread in the oven.

I still have to make salad. "Hon, can you come in here and get the stuff out for salad." (The fridge is AT LEAST 3 feet away). He passes me the lettuce, then I realize I don't have a knife. "How about passing me the knife out of the drawer."

There's a knock at the door and as I glance from the counter to the door he says, "Don't worry, I'll get that."

"Before you go pass me that box of noodles," I ask. "Not those ones, the spaghetti noodles. Don't you know the difference between lasagna and spaghetti noodles?"

The noodles go in and I take a look around. "Didn't you get the plates out yet, this food is nearly ready, you know. I'm not just doing this for my benefit."