Sara loves her husband, but... he's very tall, like a whole foot taller than her. He wears size 13 shoes and leaves them on the floor like a trip hazard. If he puts two items of his clothes into the laundry basket, it becomes full, and they don't make bigger ones. She's checked. He's also blind to dirty towels. Fresh ones he can locate, no problem, but used ones can lie on the floor for weeks if she doesn't clean up after him. She tried it. She's thinking it would be better for him to get another wife. Not a replacement. An extra one. To share all the duties.
She loves her kids, of course she does, but sometimes she doesn't. She is a late mother, having her first one via IVF in her forties. They are currently two and four and have turned her into a constant wiper. Every meal gets flung everywhere. She finds discarded baked beans in every crevice of her kitchen.
Her husband once did a helpful thing and used a tool to remove them all, but didn't do what any woman would do: throw them away. No, he sought credit for his accomplishment and left them for her in a small jar beside the sink. She thought he'd left her a lovely present of some peanuts and only realised they weren't after she popped them in her mouth. As she realised they weren't peanuts, she noticed the empty crevices, but swallowed them anyway because that would be one less thing to clean up.
She decries how women will put poison in their face to avoid looking older, explaining she's done the research and found other horrendous examples, such as how scientists have sewn an old mouse to a young mouse, joining their blood systems and found the older mouse lived longer. Another example was an oddball billionaire who injects himself with his son's blood to extend his life. Now that gentleman only celebrates his birthday every nineteen months because of how much longer he thinks he's going to live. Sara, on the other hand, has started smoking again, so she now holds her birthday party every eight months.
Sarah was fantastic tonight. No support act, just two 45-minute sets. Even the recycled material about loving Take That when she was sixteen was given a fresh spin in light of her current circumstances. (She had more screentime in the crowd scenes outside The Big Breakfast house than she did on Last One Laughing).
Our seats were in the fourth row of the stalls, but I never felt uncomfortable. Sara is not that kind of comedian. Pausing for crowdwork is not her style. She relies on the rhythm of her words to carry the comedy along. Indeed, latecomers and unexpected laughter distracted her, throwing her off her material. You could see her replaying the set in her head until she found the rhythm to jump back in.
I asked my wife if she found any of Sara's material triggering (the husband scenarios sounded painfully familiar - I still don't know how to use our new washing machine, and I'm not allowed to touch the iron in case I break it). She laughed ruefully. She's also not buying into the idea of taking on an extra wife, though. Our super king-size bed may be comfortably big enough to sleep three, but she's not falling for that. She'd end up having to do all the work there, too.
Ticket Price: £31 x 2 plus £3.95 Service Fee = £65.95 from Trafalgar Tickets
Blurb
THIS SHOW IS THAT THOUGHT.
In that it doesn’t make much sense and is a bit weird on reflection.
Sara Pascoe is a comedian and her children don’t sleep and her kitchen won’t clean itself and her husband “doesn’t want to be in it”.
As seen and heard on Taskmaster, Live at the Apollo, The Great British Sewing Bee, QI, 8 Out of 10 Cats Does Countdown, Mock the Week and co-host of Sara & Cariad’s Weirdos Book Club podcast.
Age restriction: 14+ (strong language)
