Struggling to remember the plot?

Dís is a story that takes a deep dive into a married couple's life but with a lot of dry humour and a pinch of irony!

Imagine this: It's a quiet afternoon. Seán is sitting by the fire, nose buried in his newspaper, while his wife is just trying to have a conversation. Classic, right? Every time she speaks, all she gets from Seán is a lazy "hu". He's so absorbed in the paper that he might as well be in another world.

At this point, the wife is getting desperate for him to notice her, so she pulls out the big guns: "I'm in the newspaper!" she says. Now, you'd think that would catch his attention, right? Nope, Seán's still clueless, muttering "What are you on about?" He's so absorbed in the paper that it's as if nothing else in the world matters—certainly not the woman sitting right in front of him.

But here's the kicker: she goes on to reveal that she took part in a survey. And not just any survey—a survey about unhappy wives! And guess what? One in four women are unhappy in their marriages, and—surprise, surprise—she's one of them! Now, this finally gets Seán's attention, and he's absolutely baffled. "You? Unhappy? This is the first I've heard of it!"

The conversation takes a bit of a twist when the wife recounts her chat with the survey lady—an independent woman who asked her all sorts of personal questions. This got the wife thinking about her life, her role as a housewife, and whether she's really happy. She sarcastically remarks how no one notices when she does the housework, but if she didn't do it, the whole world would fall apart. "Who notices when the floor is clean? But if it's dirty, then suddenly it's a big deal!" That dry humour is her way of coping with the frustration of feeling invisible in her marriage.

She also tells Seán about the survey woman. The wife felt sympathy for her, so she opened up about her own life. She even jokes that now she's not just a housewife—she's a statistic! She says she'll write "Statistic" in the occupation box on any form she fills out from now on, which is her way of pointing out how she feels reduced to just a number, another forgotten wife in the grand scheme of things.

And while she's questioning her own life, Seán is sitting there, clueless, just wanting to get back to his paper. But the wife's wit and sarcasm continue. She muses about the old customs in places like China or India where widows were burned along with their husbands. It's morbid, but she throws it in as a joke, saying, "At least back then, women had a purpose until the very end!" She's clearly frustrated by how she's valued only for housework and child-rearing, and once those roles are gone, what's left for her? She calls herself "redundant", just like an old piece of machinery no one needs anymore.

In the end, the wife hints that she's thinking of taking up a temporary job—standing in for the survey lady while she's on maternity leave. And guess what she'll do? Go door-to-door, doing surveys herself! She jokes about how she'll bring their child with her because people are always more likely to open the door if they see a baby. Seán, completely bewildered, mutters something about how this means she's unhappy at home, but she brushes him off. "Who said I was unhappy?" she asks, playing with the idea that the survey might not even reflect her true feelings.

So, what do we have here? A story that's funny, sharp, and full of sarcasm. It's a light-hearted but honest take on how women in traditional marriages can feel overlooked and undervalued. The wife is clearly witty and clever, and even though she uses humour to deal with her frustrations, there's a real sadness underneath it all.