Do two brand new large televisions count as shopping for essentials?

THE Men of The House went off for a spin the other day. This is not a regular occurrence. They are not a father and son who ‘spin’’ together. They usually bond over watching soccer on the telly.

But seeing as Covid has seriously curtailed any opportunity to socialise with anyone other than your immediate circle and desperately needing some time away from the hurricane of female hormones sweeping through the house, they went for a spin.

They were gone a long time. As in almost two hours. Now I wasn’t complaining about them being gone for that long. God knows I rarely get the opportunity to take custody of the remote but two hours is a long time to be gone when you can’t go further than 5 km.

I had visions of them feckin’ off to Rosslare for a walk on the beach, or driving to McDonald’s for a Big Mac without me. This made me exceptionally cross.

But they staggered through the door shortly afterwards under the weight of two massive cardboard boxes and I knew they hadn’t breached the 5 km limit. They’d gone shopping.

This whole shopping situation has me very confused. I can’t walk into a shop and buy a pair of knickers or much needed new slippers but the boyos can walk into a store and buy not one, but TWO televisions. Explain to me how they are essential items Mr. Martin?

‘What are they?’ I ask. It’s a fair question. The boxes are the size of my living room window. The lads stagger to halt in the middle of the room.

‘New tellies!’ says Himself beaming from ear to ear.

‘But we don’t need new tellies. We have three tellies that are all in good working order,’ I reply trying to stay calm.

‘Ah yeah but the sound wasn’t great and these ones are bigger and...’ He bladders on about all the telly’s bells and whistles while I keep staring at the size of the boxes.

‘I’m going to make a cup of tea with a side of gin. Call me when you’re done,’ I tell them, retreating to the kitchen.

Half an hour and a lot of cursing later they declare they are ready for the great unveiling. I walk back in and am rendered speechless. The new telly is so big it is taking up one entire wall, leaving my good Waterford Crystal lamp balancing precariously on the edge of a table and shoved into a corner.

He turns it on with great pomp and ceremony. Eastenders appears. The picture reaches out to me from the far side of the room. I may as well be in the Queen Vic. The two boys are ecstatic as they high five each other.

‘Well? What do you think?’ asks The Son.

‘I thin....I cannot wait for Lockdown to be over!’

I CAN’T WALK INTO A SHOP AND BUY A PAIR OF KNICKERS BUT THE BOYOS CAN WALK INTO A STORE AND BUY NOT ONE, BUT TWO TELEVISIONS