TITS N’ NITS
Kate shifted her weight from one foot to the other, waiting for the kettle to boil. Gazing out the kitchen window, she observed her two girls out in the distance, towards the far end of the garden. They scrambled through the hedge, no doubt heading back towards their camp site. Kate smiled as she revelled in the freedom and simplicity of their island lifestyle. It would be hours before the girls made another appearance, undoubtedly when their stomachs required refuelling. She was still thinking about how spontaneous she was about asking Jamie to go for cocktails the other night. Maybe she liked this version of herself? Maybe Jamie could be a good influence; besides, it felt good to have some carefree hours away from the house.
Kate glanced towards the two large pine trees near the swimming pool. It was no surprise that David was in his customary Sunday position—swinging casually on the double Aztec-printed hammock. Sunday was Kate's least favourite day. She often felt at a loss. It was true David wasn't around much during the week, but she just wished they could do more together on the weekend. Instead, he appeared to spend the vast majority of the day on the hammock. And why was it necessary to read several articles all on the same subject? He was obsessed with the war and had downloaded several newspaper apps. It wasn't as if the news differed in each one. Perhaps she was being unreasonable, she knew it wasn't his job to entertain her.
Kettle boiled, Kate made tea and slurped it with pleasure. It was already her third cup that day. She loved tea but needed to stop drinking so much and start doing something more constructive with her time. But what? She could, of course, go to the gym, but she'd already been twice that week. Besides, she was on her period and her breasts appeared to have grown to even greater proportions, if that were possible.
Gazing down at her tits, Kate breathed an enormous sigh. They were huge, and it wasn't just because she had her period; they seemed to be growing. What was even more exasperating was that the right one was definitely growing at a faster pace than the left. She was practically walking lopsided. Everybody else she knew seemed to have wonderful little happy upright tits, whilst hers … well, she didn't have any recollection of there ever being anything remotely upright about her breasts. They were, from the moment that they sprouted—almost overnight at thirteen—just huge, big, droopy things, pointing south. And then breastfeeding two babies had done little to enhance their general appearance.
Still gazing out of the window, Kate stopped sipping her tea when she saw her little one, Tali, racing towards the house. Her budding naturalist, now naked other than her Minions knickers, was bolting towards her, faster than normal.
“Mamá, I have animales .”
Kate felt confused. What animals? What was Tali on about? She prayed they hadn't captured some revolting reptile or insect, or worse still, found some stray pet; they had enough pets with the rabbits. Tali must be referring to the rabbits. Kate grinned. How sweet. Squatting down so she was at eye level with Tali, she planted a kiss on her forehead, lingering for just a moment as she inhaled her daughter’s unique smell. Pure nectar.
“Ah, darling, that's so lovely, yes you do have two little bunnies. Floppy and Fluffy. Do you love your little bunny wunnies?"
“No, aqui .” Tali seemed nonplussed whilst pointing and then itching her head. "Emily say yo tengo animales in me hair.”
As if in slow motion, the penny dropped. Fuck. Fuuuuck.
“Come here and let me check.” Kate leaned over to survey Tali's hair. It was difficult to tell whether there were any nits, as there appeared to be several other alien objects residing in there: leaves, twigs, and was that a piece of cheese? Tali continued her itching, and with a groan, Kate speculated that her initial assessment was accurate. It was therefore reasonable to presume that Emily may also be afflicted. Which meant, horror of all horrors, she might have them too. Pushing open the solid oak door that led from the kitchen to the back garden in order to retrieve Emily, she spotted her eldest sauntering towards her, also itching her head. Kate cursed herself for wishing for something to do just moments earlier. If there were indeed little blood-sucking creatures in her children's hair, she'd hunt them out and destroy them. But as their hair was so long, it could take hours.
Kate's brain shifted into gear as she considered the job at hand. The girls’ hair was less of a problem, but if she also had them, who on earth would spend hours picking them out for her? She couldn't do it herself and doubted David would have either the inclination or the patience. She'd better hope she hadn't already contracted them and would focus on prevention instead.
Kate remembered hearing that a mixture of lemon juice, vinegar and olive oil was a good deterrent and decided the answer was to douse herself with the concoction and pray it was more than just an old wives’ tale. So, before starting on her children, she poured the mixture all over her hair and, upon feeling it drip down her back, ingeniously wrapped it all in cellophane. She stunk to high heaven, and she was well aware, it wasn't a good look.
* * *
Emily and Tali were finally—hopefully—nit-free and headed back to their camp to resume play. Kate observed that true to form, David had not moved from the hammock during all the commotion. Enough was enough. She needed some adult stimulation after singing a thousand renditions of ‘ten green bottles sitting on the wall,’ adapted to, ‘one hundred naughty nits sitting in Tali and Emily’s hair.’
As Kate sauntered towards David, she vowed not to snap, despite a burning desire to do precisely that. David deserved some time out. After all, he'd just secured the commission to design and refurbish an old building in Palma and had hardly stepped foot out of his office since. Yes, David needed his downtime and so she would bite her tongue. Approaching him quietly, Kate stood beside him, waiting for him to notice her hovering like an alien spaceship, but even the chip shop aroma failed to stir him. Moments later, the wiggling of his nose suggested he had at the very least smelt her presence. Eventually tearing his eyes away from his phone. “You stink.” David burst into laughter as he registered his wife’s new look.
“You think, huh?”
“Really bad, actually. I suppose there's a good reason you've got your hair wrapped in cellophane?”
“Nits.” Monosyllabic responses may help accentuate her terrible plight.
“You've got nits?”
“Well, no, but the girls did. I’ve just spent the last two hours delousing them. You didn't miss me then?” Kate, unable to contain herself despite her good intentions.
“And the cellophane is … to intercept them jumping into your hair?”
“No, the cellophane is to stop the vinegar and olive oil dripping down my back.”
David, whilst perplexed, decided not to pursue the topic and turned his attention once again to his phone. Kate lingered for a fraction longer. Realising that she wasn't going to engage him in any sort of conversation before he had fully read the news, gave up. As she turned to make her way back to the house, he called out, “New tits or a new car?”
“Excuse me?” His question momentarily startled Kate. How on earth had he known that she was having a bad boob day? The man was surely psychic.
“New tits or a new car?” David was being serious.
“Are you speaking to me? Are you actually talking to me, and on a Sunday?” She walked back to stand in front of him.
“Don't be funny Kate, I'm being serious.”
“What on earth made you ask that? And what do you mean?”
“If you had to choose between getting a new pair of tits or a new car, which would you go for?”
“Is this another one of your hypothetical questions?”
“No really, I'm being serious. You're constantly going on about how you detest your tits and you're always going on about how much you hate your car, so I'm just wondering, if you had the choice, which one would you pick?”
Totally ignoring the question, Kate wondered if that was all she’d become—some saggy-boobed, moaning excuse of a woman with a cellophane-clad head. How on earth could he still fancy her? As images of her being single and forty, with two children and droopy tits, sped through her head. “Not sure. Why are you asking?”
David held his hand out to her and moved up, making room for her to join him. Kate sat down next to him, plonking her feet in his lap. Without even having to ask, he started to give her a foot massage, and she melted. She turned her attention to the report he was reading on his phone. “Low body image results in low female libido.”
Kate looked at him, eyes opening wide; he must have exhausted the war articles then and went in search of his next favourite subject. On some level, it was rather comical; she should've realised his question would ultimately refer back to sex. Did that man have anything else going on in his head?
“New tits or new car?” David looked at Kate quizzically, searching for any signs that might indicate a preference.
“Sorry, I was miles away. I honestly think it'll take more than a new pair of tits to get my libido activated.”
“You should read the article. It's very interesting,” David enthused, offering her his phone.
She swiped his hand away. “I'm sure it is, but I don't think it's my tits which are stopping us from having the sort of sex that you want. I think it's because we've been with each other for eternity and have two kids,” Kate said as part of her counter defence. “And why is it all my fault, anyway? Perhaps you could take some responsibility as well?”
“Me? You think it's my fault?” David now on the defensive.
Kate knew she was being oversensitive, but she didn't want to discuss it. David was still playing with her feet and she didn't want that to stop. It felt so good. She closed her eyes, turning her face up to the sun, feeling the warmth wash over her like warm water. The rhythmic swaying of the hammock almost lulled her to sleep.
“I’m thinking about it,” she murmured, her eyes still shut, to suspend the moment and encourage more foot rubbing. David turned back to the article, whilst continuing his soft stroking. Who said men couldn’t multi-task?
The heavenly combination swaying in the hammock whilst having her feet stroked was Kate's definition of an orgasm. Who needed sex when you could have ‘strokey’ in the sunshine? She felt like purring. Her thoughts drifted. She cast her mind back to the previous Tuesday again, where she’d met Jamie by the beach. Jamie was excited about the prospect of her trip to London, and as they sat watching the sunset, she regaled Kate with stories of sexual conquests, of which there seemed many.
Kate had sat mesmerised; fascinated by Jamie’s love of sex. How she ached for it, sought it out even. Perhaps sex and Kate had just gotten off on the wrong foot? If sex was so bloody amazing, then surely, with a little effort, Kate could discover its pleasures as well? Obviously, the sort of sex Jamie talked about was different, non-married sex. But, did that mean if Kate were to experience this, she'd have to experience it without David? The thought of not being with him filled her with horror; she'd rather live her entire life without Jamie-sex than be without David.
“David, I'm sorry. I know I'm crap at the moment. It's just that I'm so tired, and we've been over this. Honestly, even if I had upright breasts, I doubt you'd get any more out of me. Anyway, let's not talk about our sex life or lack of it for a minute and go back to the tits versus car debate.
Kate thought about the Volvo she'd had for many years; it was nothing short of a miracle that it was still functioning. They'd brought it over from the UK, so it really had done some mileage … but then again, so had her tits!
David seemed aware that Kate was trying to process between the two things she so desperately wanted to change. Car? Tits? Car? Tits?
“I'm thinking about it. New tits would be nice. New tits would be amazing. New tits and new tummy would be the best,” Kate finally announced.
“Go on then, do it.” David smiled cheekily, dimples forming on his clean-shaven face.
“Do what?” Kate was lost.
“Check it out. The new tits and the new tummy.”
“Are you being serious?”
“Absolutely, go on. Why don't you investigate it and see what's involved? You've been moaning about how much you hate your body for as long as I've known you, so why not change it? And despite what you think, I reckon it'll definitely increase your sex drive.”
Kate thought he was being funny until she looked at his earnest face and then sighed with pleasure. Hmmmm, plastic surgery. New tummy and new tits. Why the hell not? No harm in finding out what's involved; besides, the Volvo was sure to die soon and then he'd have to buy her a new car as well.
Kate slid off the hammock and ambled back to the house. She'd message Jamie; if anyone knew about looking good, it was her. In her profession, she must know loads of people who've had work done. Yes, Jamie would know the names of some good surgeons. Yippee! Kate finally had something proper to do with her time that didn't involve picking out live animals from her children's hair.