A monologue for a 40ish actress Well, at least it's quiet for a few minutes. Nice to have a sit down for a bit. Who'd be a woman? 'Specially at Christmas. Goodwill to all men. Huh! What about a bit of goodwill to all women? I don't know which is worse - holidays or Christmas. Both as bad as one another, in my opinion. What is it about families being all together? Fraught, that's what it is. People reckon there are more family upsets holiday times than... Oh, no - he's off again. Gerald! Gerald! Dig your father in the ribs, one of you. I don't care which one of you does it - just do it. That man has the loudest snore... Thank you. I tell you boys something. I'm not doing it next year. Oh, dear me, no. Oh, I know he meant well. 'I've booked this caravan, love. Nice and big. Six berth. Couple of weeks at the seaside. Do you good. Make a nice change.' Change? That's a good one. Muggins here'll still have to do the cooking, the washing and the ironing. Absolute misery, it was. Rained ten days out of the fourteen. My idea of a holiday is not being stuck in a caravan with a teenage daughter, two growing lads, and a nine-month old baby with teething problems. Not to mention Gerald. Come to think of it, I'd rather not mention Gerald. Right bundle of fun, he was.We'd only been left home ten minutes and he was off. Susie started to cry. Well, she couldn't help it. 'Can't you stop her?' he said. He kept on grousing and moaning for another half hour. 'Pull into this supermarket,' I said. 'They've got a baby-changing room in there.' 'Good idea,' he said. 'See if you can swap her for a quieter model.' Men! Forty-eight, forty-nine weeks of the year they're out of the way. The poor little woman has to put up with all the family illnesses - schooling - household chores. If that isn't a full-time job... 'Oh, mum, I'm bored.' 'Mum, I've got nothing to do.' As if it was my fault it rained most of the holiday. And then there was Hamish. We should have put him in kennels. Well, I mean to say, labradors are big dogs. And when the weather's hot and humid and he gets wet - well, he does begin to pong a bit in a confined space. Oh, no - here we go again. Give him another poke, Jamie. Not in a minute. Now. Right now. And you can give that game a rest for a few minutes. It's bad for your eyes. Hamish! You're too close to the fire. Your belly'll be red-hot. You'd better shift him, Harry. Don't moan. I don't ask you to do much. (SIGHS) This family. Never lift a finger, any of 'em. (PAUSE) Dear Gerald didn't even help with the packing. No, wait a minute - I tell a lie. I'd very nearly finished. I asked him to pack my book for me. I'd mistakenly thought I might be able to read on holiday. "Where should I put it, Barbie," he'd said. I told him - anywhere in the cases where he could find room. And d'you know what he'd packed? An Argos catalogue. Very interesting reading, that. Most enlight-ening. (PAUSE) Oh, no. Not again. Jamie, go upstairs and tell Amy to turn that noise down. She'll wake the baby. She must've played that record fifty times since she woke up this morning. Yes, I know. I know I bought it for her. Go on. Do as you're told. And Harry, you'd better take Hamish for a...(BARELY AUDIBLE)...walk. Never mind, 'Oh, mum.' I know. I know it's cold outside. (PAUSE) Well, that's your fault. You've been stuffing yourself ever since you got up this morning. I don't know where you put it all, I really don't. And don't keep whinging. Miserable little toerag. If you're going to be sick, be sick. Either throw up, or shut up... Look. Look at that dog's eyes. Can't you see he's asking. You want W-A-L-K-I-E-S, don't you, Hamish? No, Harry, I am NOT taking him. You are. I've been slaving over a hot turkey all morning... Oh, you're in the land of the living, are you? I've got no sympathy for you. No-one forced you to drink half a bottle of brandy. Cup of tea? If you want a cup of tea, you can jolly well go and make it. You're big enough and ugly enough... Harry! Take that dog for a walk. Oh! All right, Hamish. Down boy. Now you've got to take him. He knows every word you say, that dog. And put on your thick anorak. And your welly boots. And when I say a walk, I mean a walk. Not to the front gate and back. A good, long walk. He's a big dog. He needs exercise. And when you get back, take your wellies off in the porch. I don't want wet footmarks all over the hall carpet... SFX: DOORBELL Oh, dear. Here we go. They've arrived. My brother-in-law, his wife, and their five screaming kids. They'll have the place upside down in five minutes flat. (A HEARTFELT SIGH) Merry Christmas. |
