So the other night The Bronsons (Thais refer to themselves in the third person all the time, and i have lovingly adopted this method of speaking) had quite an interesting, unexpected exercise in marriage teamwork. Coming back from Nong Khai we were tired and weary and decided in the cab home from the airport to make a quick, no-hassle spaghetti-from-a-jar meal when we got home. Sounds nice, right? Not so. The scene went something like this:
(Sounds of hissing water boiling)…
Becky: mmm. I love you sweet husband of mine.
Andrew: mmm. love you too.
Becky: what’s that?
Andrew: I said, it looks like we’re locked in. (smug laugh).
Becky: huh?
Andrew: I mean, I closed the door and now we’re locked in.
Becky: what door? where?
(sounds of the Gao Wao bird faithfully rise in the distance)
Andrew: Oh man. This is going to be a long night.
Now, you may be wondering what would cause us to 1) have a kitchen door that locks from the inside of the house and 2) why we would close said door in the first place. The answer to #1 is that our kitchen used to be our backyard. Sounds weird, but we enclosed a patio-like backyard to become a very handy utility/cooking area, with roof, plumbing, sink, stove, washing machine, pantry cabinet, etc. The answer to #2 is a mosquito, plain and simple. Andrew patiently explained to his loving wife that the door was shut behind him because he spotted a zebra mosquito – the most deadly kind of night mosquito we have here in Thailand, arising at night from murky corners and their daytime slumber to torture happy sleepers such as ourselves – and was trying to keep it contained so it wouldn’t escape into the other more living-ish parts of our house.
Sigh.
We have 3 windows in our kitchen – 2 with heavy robber-proof bar covers (and therefore escape proof), and one that looks back on the inside of our house. It so happened that this window was locked from the inside as well (why, I wish I knew), so in the end, after a botched doorknob lock-picking job (Becky cheered him on while eating spaghetti on the floor), Andrew edged the sliding window off it’s track as far as he could and I reached through with my faithful duster with a hooked handle, enabling the lock to be pushed down. SAVED!
I have newfound respect for my duster, which I have deemed the Bronsons’ Utility Player. Take note: it clearly serves many functions besides just dusting, it could even save your life! So ended another day in Bangkok, Thailand










