Well, if you think that is luck, then yes, I am truly lucky. Which husband cooks exotic dishes occasionally (I do the mundane rice-curry-veggie-meat dishes), shops for groceries, bathes the kids daily, washes the clothes and even has a 9-5 job at the factory on the side?
It wasn’t always like that when I married the bloke. But thank God he was trainable. It has taken me many years-and lots of fights and cold wars-to bring about this change in a man who could barely make a cup of tea and boil some rice to survive.
Nowadays he tries out recipes and then praises his own fare when it is a stupendous success. Mind you, I’m not grumbling; it gives me a chance to put my plump feet up and solve the latest mystery in a detective book from the library as the heady aroma from the kitchen teases my olfactory buds.
This year, my youngest son had to learn ‘Mummy’ and ‘Daddy’ for conversation. It was so embarrassing teaching him that Mummy was supposed to cook, keep the home neat and tidy and dress him up for school while Daddy had to go to work, bring toys and sweets home, and be always loved and obeyed. How confusing for little Nathan! He can see for himself that we are not Mummy-and-Daddy but Daddy-and-Mummy.
If you get the impression from what I have just revealed to you that my husband is not King of his Kingdom, you are wrong. Daddy is definitely feared by the kids in the house while Mummy gets strung along all the time. If its remarks to be signed or money to be shelled out, “Go to Daddy”. If you want a boo-boo kissed or a complaint against mean big brother registered, Mummy is the counter that is always open 24x7.
I am the neat-n-tidy freak of the house but with four men (my hubby and our three boys), I fight a losing battle. Still, I resort to the age-old method of nagging, nagging and then nagging some more till I get the work done.
These Diwali holidays however, I decided to let things go to seed, and for three weeks our home was storm-hit by torn paper, broken toy parts and filthy clothes strewn in every possible corner of the house. Before sleeping, we would just lift up all the mess onto the nearest chair or table, and the next morning the kids were back in business playing ‘Tornado Jane’. Only when the boys went off to school the first day did I venture to set my home in order. And let me tell you, its back-breaking (and bending) to keep it that way. This is the only area where Daddy is Daddy and I just cannot get him to change.
But all in all, I am happy with the way things shaped up after 17 years of marriage. I thank God that my husband accepted the fact that he needed to be a help and not a hindrance and is a good role model for our boys. If Daddy can do it, so can you all. Right, boys?
I am certainly proud of the fact that the tables have turned in my household. I listen to women’s tales of woe and I think to myself “Why can’t they see that it is their fault that their husbands don’t help in the house?” If you just say “Men will be men” and “His mother didn’t train him well.” then you deserve to be treated like a glorified housemaid.
With two incomes becoming the norm rather than the exception, it is high time women realize that two pairs of hands also make lighter work. I do hope that good sense will eventually prevail and all you suffering wives out there will change your lives for the better. Just grab that tiger by the tail and he’ll soon be purring like a pussycat.
As for those who have lives just like mine, you have chosen the path of true love and perfect marital bliss. Remember: ‘A perfect WIFE is any woman who has a perfect HUSBAND.’
Recipe For Marital Bliss 27th Nov 2009
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