Marital Review after 10 Years

Chappie (Chapman) and Nicole Taylor's marriage was surviving after a decade like many others reportedly continue to flourish.

It appeared to be ticking along 'okay', but who really knows?

They remained together, now a family of four -- Emma almost five and Fabian a year older -- and all four seemed happy and no rumours were bouncing about of either parent and Nicole was often seen to be kissing Chappie as he left in the morning for work. Significantly perhaps, he often arrived home relaxed after having a couple of drinks on Friday after work holding up a bunch of flowers looking heroically and if expecting something.

That's the relationship that extended family and close friends and neighbours saw. But the marriage wouldn't be exactly the same as it was immediately after the wedding day. Things including marriages change.

So, what might the state of the Taylors' marriage reveal?

* * *

Chappie arrived home and, as usual, Nicole sighed waiting for it.

"Honey, I'm home."

Sometimes, if irritated over something else Nicole would fume and would hiss out of earshot, 'Didn't your think I'd hear the garage door go up and 40 to 50 seconds later clank winding down and then 30 seconds after that the car door slams following by the back door rattling the glass side window?"

On this evening, as routine, Chappie walked into the kitchen and engaged by kissing his wife.

As she sometime did, Nicole blurted, "I've told you not to squeeze my breast when you kiss me."

His reply was as usual.

"Sorry, I keep forgetting you are sensitive about your tits being touched these days."

She didn't bother reprimand him for calling them tits because it was only repeating the past request 1000 or more times

Chappie called through the doorway of the TV room hi kids, and both waved silently, not shifting their stares off the screen.

"I've had a pretty good day," Chappie advised, and as usual was ignored.

He went to the main bedroom, urinated, made sure he used his own handbasin and towel when washing his hands, threw his jacket on to bed, expecting that Nicole would hang it up as usual when she arrived to 'powder her nose' as she called it, although never having used powder on her face since playing as a child.

He poured a gin on ice and a beer in the kitchen and took them into the family room.

Uh-uh. The wife (wow, she hated that expression) was sitting with a back so straight it appeared she had the longest vibrating dildo in the neighbourhood up her butt. That telegraphed he was about to get an ear-bashing over something. Translated, that meant she considered she has something of utmost importance to say to him.

Probably their cat had crapped on Mrs Vickers' lawn again and old Mrs V had threatened Nicole with her final umpteenth warning, that next time the police would be informed.

"Lovely drink thanks, Chappie. Now listen to me and don't lose focus."

"I haven't anything to focus on."

That was ignored and that was understandable because the wife was used to dealing with children.

"We celebrated our 10th wedding anniversary last Monday."

"Yeah, and Christ you were on fire on the entrance carpet after we arrived home intoxicated. You were ten times better than on our wedding night."

"Shut-up, Chappie. I'd asked you to listen to me and don't lose focus."

He decided not to dispute her right to demand that, to avoid being locked in an irrelevant side issue.

"I've decided we need to make some changes in our life together."

He decided to wisely not quip, what, introduce another couple to their bedroom because she would become unnerved wondering if he were serious? As it happened, it was nothing anywhere as near as confronting.

"I wish to take over our household accounts, effective from the start of the next financial quarter. I don't think it's proper that your office personal assistant should be doing our private work during company time."

"Okay, suit yourself. You arrange it with Eleanor. For fuck sake don't tell her that after 10 years you've woken up to the fact that the company has been paying her to do our personal accounts."

"Then what should I tell her?"

"Tell her nothing and she's smart enough not to ask."

"Good gracious, you snake. That's an extremely clever cop out, Chappie."

"I'm sometimes noted for the light touch of cleverness."

"You can say that again," she smiled.

"I'm not usually noted for the light touch of cleverness."

That time she laughed outright.

"How else may I help you with in adjusting to our second decade of marriage, darling?"

"Oh darling, how considerate and cooperative of you. For one minor thing, with your approval, I suggest we cease going around home without wearing underwear."

"Why on earth would you think our marriage would benefit from lifting our embargo on wearing underwear at home?"

"Yesterday for the second time recently, Emma called me out for not wearing underwear," Nicole frowned.

"And did the sky fall in?"

"No?"

"Well?"

"Sooner rather than later she'll argue then she should not have to wear underwear at home under outer-wear because I don't."

"Oh, okay, agreed. You must understand that that adjustment would lead to less spontaneous sex around the home and probably less sex overall."

"Oh, will it?" Emma asked with a edge of excitement to her tone.

Chappie's shoulders slumped and his sigh was heavy.

Hitting him when he was low, Emma said, "And I would like to wear flannel pyjamas in the winter."

"Over my dead body."

"But you don't feel the cold, and I need your tender consideration," she whined manipulatively.

"Okay, however because I love you, I'll not object to you wearing a flannel nightgown no longer than mid-lower leg."

"You regard that as a concession?" Nicole said, raising an arched eyebrow.

"Careful darling, who knows, that concession might just be sufficient to save our marriage. If I'd wanted to go to bed with an Eskimo, I would have married one."

"Then who did you marry darling?"

"Just the loveliest, sweetest, precious young female that I'd ever chanced to date."

"Omigod, Nicole said theatrically sweeping an arm over her brow and giving a solid impression of almost about to crumple bodily into a faint.

"Fuck darling, you can still turn it on as well as the best professionals."

"What, prostitutes?"

"No, professional actresses," Chappie said indignantly.

Nicole produced a list of grievances that could be remedied with Chappie's cooperation:

CEASE throwing the washed cutlery into any one of three drawer divisions, instead of into the allocated knife, fork and spoon sections.

REHEARSING to become faultless in telling the children to go somewhere else in the house where they wouldn't disturb him when he was working on an office report instead of telling them to fuck off.

RETRAIN from waking up Nicole at 6.15 am on week days to ask if she wanted a cup of coffee.

HIRING someone to clean the outside windows quarterly instead of waiting until they almost couldn't see through some of them.

BUY the dog he'd been promising the children for almost two years.

ACCOMPANY his wife shopping on at least two Saturday mornings a month like Susie Graham's husband did for her and she was the envy of the neighbourhood.

CLEAN her golf shoes for her after every rainy/muddy golf day.

COOK or have delivered one decent dinner a week for the family as his night for providing home dinner once a week.

Chappie looked at the list scowling.

"Well?"

"Show me a bared breast."

"Are you insane. Children are not tucked in bed."

"There was a time when you had a mischievous cutting edge and I wouldn't have to ask."

"Well, those days have gone and these days you leave it to me to put out the refuse for collection on Wednesday collection."

"I don't see the connection."

Nicole laughed and said neither did she, actually.

She obligingly flipped out a still beautifully contoured and boob and enjoyed seeing his extremely satisfied smile in exposed admiration.

"Thanks. That was a beautiful showing. It's yes to every request except cleaning your golf shoes."

Nicole beamed.

"Wow, almost a clean sweep. I consider myself lucky."

Her expression tightened and she said, "Now what do you want apart from sex more frequently."

"Sex more frequently."

"Denied, because I feel what we have now is about right whereas you wouldn't have any idea what frequently is appropriate for us."

"That's crap, and you know it. You know, I was sweating there for a while thinking you might demand that I drop my nickname of Chappie."

"Omigod, I completely overlooked that. Yes, please let's drop it although I'd like to keep it as my pet name at home."

"Sorry, too late. You'll have to wait another ten years before we do our next review pressing for the removal of gripes in our marital life."

"I can't wait that long."

"Get real, Nicole. You as a giggly 18-year-old urged me to adopt the nickname of Chappie and I refused until you said you would show me your tits. Surely today you remain basking in the glory of your foresight from all those years ago. Just ignore your friends who suggest to you that Chappie is a childish name. It could be argued that the name became the glue to our engagement and then to our long and happy marriage.

Nicole: "Perhaps it could become argued that the glue began losing its adhesiveness after 10 years."

Chappie: "Show me your tits darling."

Nicole: "Omigod, I struggle to believe that you can remain so focused on them after all these years. Check that the kids are okay watching pre-dinner TV and come rushing back with your tongue hanging out and those dark eyes of yours flashing, darling."

The End