a man's life

Had a taste this evening of what it's like to be a bloke today.

I went round to a friend's house for supper with the kids. She happens to be a single parent at the moment, so has organised her staff to do everything a 'wife' does (she has three people to do the job of one wife, in fact). So there are two women and one man on hand to cook, clean, drive, do school pick ups, play football, put on dressing up clothes, etc. etc. What a revelation! After supper one person washed up whilst the other two took the kids out to play in the garden. Friend and I had glass of wine and a chat. It was jolly nice. Now, this friend really needs to have people to help her out, because she has three children and works and it's just her and the kids. However, I couldn't help but think that for many men this is the norm. They can go to work and know that someone else is deciding what to cook for supper and packing the bag for ballet/football classes. And then they come home and someone has cooked and will shoo the kids away when they get pesky after supper, and sort out their school bags and pack healthy lunch boxes, and, well, almost everything.

Not sure that it actually makes me want to employ three people to replace me, or to become a man, for that matter (I'd not get to wear any nice silver jewelry or have a fabulous new silk dress, which would be a bit of a bummer).

Right, now I must go and finish reading 'The girl with the dragon tattoo', which I really didn't want to read, but my cupcake-baking friend said that I had to (she was emphatic), and I was scared that if I didn't then she would never ever invite me round her house for cupcakes ever again, so I gave it a go, and actually it's a darn good read, in a page-turning, reading-until-after-midnight kind of way.

Take care x

ps. It's really hot now. No, I mean really, really hot. Thirty five degrees in the shade today. Quite worried about going back to the UK and feeling rather chilly - do you think I should raid the cashmere box?