Had one of those days when it seemed like the chores wouldn’t end. You know?
Tuesday morning I went out to my swimming lesson. Loyal readers of my drivel will know I’ve started swimming lessons and I’m pleased to report all is going well. Teri has me swimming across the pool without one of those polystyrene noodle things some people call woggles or sausages. This is more swimming than I’ve done in 34 years. Okay, so I ingested half the pool and got overtaken by Elaine, a grandmother in her 70’s, but it’s progress.
I got home, had lunch and decided to sit and write. I also decided to restart Guess My Soup next week, so watch my Twitter feed for all soup related fun.
Writing lasted about 3 minutes, after I realised I’d better start contemplating dinner, and I should put the washing on, and really ought to put the clothes away from the wash I did yesterday, and I should hoover and, oh bugger, the cat’s brought in a dead bird, so I’d better mop the kitchen floor and…
…then I think I screamed.
I wondered if I was having some form of breakdown. I checked if I was wearing underwear and if I was indoors. I was, so I reckoned it wasn’t a breakdown. It was just an expression of frustration.
So. I got to it. No rest for the flaky.
Dinner was going to be an exercise in using stuff up so decided to bung various things in the slowcooker and hope something nice would result. Last time I did this I made ‘Coconut Cat Food’ surprise so perhaps I should learn my lesson and develop a plan. You need a plan.
Then it was time to put a wash on and then… hmmm… decisions decisions. Should I put the washing away or vacuum first?
I’m sure modern men, dads like Jay Z, Kanye and David Beckham don’t have such decisions to make.
Well, Kanye might. He’s had to tighten his belt so maybe he’s got a white wash on as we speak.
Then it was time to pair up socks and put them away. The joy of socks. Socks socks socks socks socks. I lost count after 40 pairs and gave up after I got sock blindness. You know, when you can’t tell the difference between one white school sock and another white school sock. And when you’ve lost THE WILL BECAUSE IT’S ALL SO TEDIOUS.
I sat on the bed and wondered if I’m doing Being A Man correctly. Shouldn’t I be out there doing manly things, like conversing about football with other men down the pub, wrestling bears, or creating something from wood using my bare hands?
No. There aren’t many bears in Barnsley and my woodworking days ended when I once made a bird table out of an old bench and the thing had to be nailed to a fence because if a bird landed on top it fell over.
To be honest, I usually quite enjoy doing the mundane things like housework after tackling The Cupboard of Doom last year. I’m lucky in that I’m able to do all this while my partner is out working. The housework is all done and there’s a lovely meal on the table when she comes home. Life’s good, and I’m pretty sure all this domesticity makes me a Modern Man, whatever one of those is. I’m proud that as a Modern Man I can cook, clean and work out which product is best for removing pen from a white school shirt. I don’t cook in a fancy Masterchef sous vide and chocolate fondant sort of way. I make hearty food which usually goes down well, and I learnt how to cook and clean because mum was an alcoholic and if I didn’t do it then it’d be fishfingers and chips every night and dirty shirts to go to school in.
I thought about my grandad, and wondered what he’d make of all this. He was a big Irish man who spent years digging the roads with a pickaxe for the gas board, or being gassed when he was sent to fix a leak. Is he looking down on me and thinking ‘Putting Frozen pants and Minion socks away is NOT MAN’S WORK!’
I doubt it. My gran said he could sew, darn, knit and clean better than anyone she knew. “He’d make someone a good wife” she once said.
Reckon I might too.
Thanks for reading.
Do you have days when the cooking, cleaning and washing bore you to tears? Do you enjoy these tasks or do you feel reduced to the role of robot? What is a Modern Man? Should I just go down the pub and get ratarsed? Please let us know what you think, and what your day consists of, or how you feel about Life in general by leaving a comment. And please share if you like what you’ve read. Love you bye!