Dubai's Desperate Housewife

Trials and traumas of a full-time mum in Dubai

Mission Impossible: V

with one comment

Dum-dum-da-da. Dum-dum-da-da. Diddie-daaa. Diddie-daaa.

You knew Mission Impossible: IV was set in Dubai – even if you lived on Mars you couldn’t have missed those pix of Tom Cruise dangling off Burj Khalifa – but what you might not yet know is that Mission Impossible: V has also taken place in Dubai.

This morning. In DS’s bedroom, to be precise.

5.45am – a tricky time, a whisker too close to morning – a sleepy cry from a little boy’s bedroom. A woman rolls over in bed, one ear pricked. A husband sleeps on.

Another cry, louder. The woman waits, holding her breath. Another cry. A word: “Mummeee!” The woman waits. The cry is louder: “Mummee! My wee-wee!” The woman slides out of bed, shivers, pads across the landing, enters the bedroom. (The husband sleeps on.)

“Mummy, need a wee-wee,” says a little voice. A potty’s fetched. A bum’s bared. A wee trickles.

“Back to bed now,” says the woman, placing the boy back in bed.

“No. Breakfast. I want breakfast,” says the boy, jumping up and down on the bed.

“It’s the middle of the night!” hisses the woman, peeping at the shutters to check the sun’s not up. “Everybody’s asleep!”

“No!” shouts the boy. (The husband sleeps on.)

“Yes,” says the woman firmly. “Bedtime.”

The boy considers his options, lies down with a sigh.

“Songs. I want songs,” he says. The woman starts to sing Baa-baa Black Sheep – and this is where the Mission Impossible theme music kicks in.

As the woman sings, she surveys the room. Her mission, should she accept it, is to lift her bare feet soundlessly off the laminate floor, and to back across the room while throwing her voice so as not to give away her retreat. She will have to turn, open the door, slip her body out without catching her nightie on the handle, and close the door not just silently, but without as much as stirring the air inside the room. She has to do all this without the husband’s alarm, set for 5.55am, going off in the middle of the operation.

Dum-dum-da-da. Dum-dum-da-da. Diddie-daaa. Diddie-daaa.

The tension is unbearable. The woman peels one foot then the other from the floor with the slightest of crackles. There’s a click of an ankle as she pads across the carpet singing slightly louder; she pauses at the door. What if the alarm goes off now? She takes a deep breath. Swiftly, she opens the door, glides out, closes it quickly, easing the door silently against the frame with her fingers while tailing off the song.

Despite the biting cold, she pauses outside the room. She listens.

Silence.

Mission Impossible? Mission Accomplished.

 

Tom Cruise has nothing on Mrs Dubai's stealthy exits

 

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Written by mrsdubai

January 24, 2012 at 3:10 pm

Posted in Uncategorized

One Response

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  1. Love it!!!! Been there as well!

    Jules

    January 25, 2012 at 7:34 pm


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