Count to 10... and then again...

>> Sunday, 23 December 2007

I'm pretty sure that there are no male readers of my blog. Well, make that absolutely certain, since I've never had any comments taking umbrage at my sometimes dismissive attitude to my Beloved, and let's face it, if a man could be bothered to read the drivel I type up he would hardly be likely to hold back if given an opportunity to criticise. (Or is that Women I'm thinking of...?).

However. If you are a man, and reading this blog, apologies in advance for this post. I am about to 'vent' (thanks Iota for this reminding me of this word, have been waiting for the opportunity to use it for the last couple of months!). And just in case you haven't guessed, the cause of my 'vent' is, you guessed it, men in general. And Husband in particular (to paraphrase a classic line from Bridget Jones 'The Edge of Reason').

Here are some things my beloved Husband has learnt over the last few days in the run-up to Christmas...

1. f you let an un-potty trained not-yet 2 year old Boy run around naked after a bath, he will wee on the floor. I can guarantee it.

2. Your wife will not be impressed. I can guarantee that too.

3. If you ask your 4 year old whether he wants to take his bike out 'now, or later' and the answer is 'now', replying 'OK, we'll go in 20 minutes then' will cause a rebellion. Which, I have to say, I think is fair enough.

4. If your wife is online 2 weeks before Christmas and says 'I'm just going to buy Boy #1's present', do not answer 'oh, let's get it ourselves. I want to see them in person first,' and then leave it until three days before the big day before bothering. There will be none left in the civilised world. And it will be Your Fault. (And yes, I know that the wife in question should have ignored his comment and gone with her gut instinct, ordering it anyway, but in an uncharacteristic fit of wifely agreement, I didn't do it.)

5. Newsflash: if you put a slab of pate into the fridge - unwrapped - and leave it there overnight, you will be knocked backwards by the fragrant aroma when you open the door to get your son's milk in the morning. It's not rocket science.

6. If you leave a packet of crisps and the remains of a tub of dip out on the side in the kitchen, do not be surprised if your wife, arriving home from an evening out with her mates with too much red wine and no food, hoovers up the lot. My body is only a temple when I'm sober.

7. Tiredness due to a week of office parties will not result in much sympathy from your wife.

8. If your wife has asked for specific cd for Christmas, do not be surprised when, after coming out of HMV on a family shopping trip empty handed, and then announcing that you still have one present to get, she guesses what that present might be...

9. DVD's for the children in the afternoon are a GOOD THING. (At least during the Christmad holidays).

10. C-beebies is blessed.

I could go on, but am feeling guilty now since despite all of this and a host of other things I won't bore you with, Husband is wonderful and in fact extremely helpful and hands-on with the Boys. So I should really count my blessings, and believe me, I do, every day. It's just that sometimes (like with the pate) I just want to scream. And I can't, because that's not the right way to run a successful marriage - at least in our house. (Although don't worry - he is aware of my take on all of the above). So, here I am. What else are blogs for, after all?


Iota 24 December 2007 at 00:20  

Blogs are definitely for venting. I don't think it was my invention though... (oh, sorry, pun, not intentional but you won't believe that).

My favourite line of Husband's (which he uttered years ago, but I haven't forgotten) is "I can't look after the children AND cook their dinner at the same time". Sweetly he did some housework this morning, and then uttered a line which I fear may become another favourite: "housework takes longer than you think, doesn't it?" I didn't point out that meanwhile I had togged up 3 children in outdoor gear, entertained them in the garden in the snow (yay!), then detogged them, found a place for the wet clothes to drip, got them into dry clothes, made a cup of tea, and auditioned for Mary Poppins II.

I think men are just a different breed really. But then what would you talk about with your friends if they weren't?

Potty Mummy 24 December 2007 at 10:56  

Hi Iota, Merry Christmas! Firstly, you're right, I don't believe you. Of COURSE that pun was intended...

And yes, they are a different breed. I've lost count of the similar lines my Husband has used to the ones you mentioned. I think my favourite was when, discussing cleaners and their occassional lack of perfectionism with his brother, he concluded with a sorrowful look and a shake of his head "... and then you just end up doing it yourself."

Obviously, I fell off my chair at this point, and stopped laughing around 6 months later.

But you're right; all this gives us such good gossip fodder. I wouldn't change him for anything. Well, maybe I would educate him in some of the uses of clingfilm. (Ooh err, sounds a bit pervy madam. Double entrendre not intended - but you won't believe that...)

aims 24 December 2007 at 17:08  

Many years ago I was put on the mentally ill list - and I ranted and raved about things that I don't remember now (all true). However - that is all brain cells under the bridge - there are times when I ask The Man why he is doing things the way he does...and he says - you told me to do it this way and in no uncertain terms.

So - I have no-one to blame but myself apparently! LOL

The Rotten Correspondent 26 December 2007 at 22:13  

I've kind of boxed myself into a corner, since my husband reads my blog on a fairly regular basis. You have NO idea how different my content would be if he didn't - trust me.

I go along not only with them being a different breed, but possibly even a different species.

Bless their hearts.And yours for not letting him have it.

Vent away. That's what we're here for.

Potty Mummy 29 December 2007 at 14:09  

Aims, I rant and rave about things I don't remember all the time. I even have entire conversations that I (claim) not to remember afterwards - usually with Husband. You are not alone. And yes, I think I probably bring some of these things on myself too - but I would never admit it...

RC, you're a much better - and braver - person than I am to share your blog with your husband. Mine would quite like to read it (or at least he works hard at giving that impression), but I quite like having something entirely for myself where I can say anything I want about family without fear of repercussions, so for the time being it's still off limits.

Unless, of course, you're reading it already, darling?

Frog in the Field 30 December 2007 at 06:22  

Ha Ha!
Sorry, but you are so usual, and really cheered me up this morning.
Darling Husband (usually THE most placid, lovely man on the planet, had a major vent yesterday, much to the complete shock of us 4 females in the house. He's been very unwell with Flu, (real flu, not man flu) and we weren't answering his (quite frankly) ridiculous questions fast enough or in nice tones.
The classic one being? Has child no.2 put the bag of presents in the car yet?
Child no.2 had in fact just struggled past him with a bag bigger than her, heavier than her and managed to bump most things on her way past!!
But they are hopeless aren't they?
WHY do they never wrap or cover things before they put them in the fridge?
I love your blog, always fab!

Nunhead Mum of One 1 January 2008 at 18:21  

David kept a low profile this Christmas due to the spectacular cock up he made of last year. So all was well.....but I missed the niggling little row about how many mince pies to leave out for Santa and whether milk would be better than whiskey. Sometimes it's the little things that matter.....

Potty Mummy 2 January 2008 at 13:21  

Hi Frog,

only just remembered to check this post so sorry it's taken a while to reply. And I don't know where the phobia of wrapping things come from but I think all men have it... and not only in the kitchen... (sorry, I have a mind like a sewer. It's that convent-girl mentality surfacing again...)

Nunhead mum, I loved your post about David taking your son Christmas shopping, it rang so many bells. As for the mince-pies row; why waste them on Santa in the first place?

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