Am I a wife or a mother?

Technically I'm neither so why does it feel like I am both? I can tell that this is going to be one of those bitchy, sexist posts so if you're easily offended, I'd click away now.. 

Are we good to go? 

So the other night I was ironing.. Has there ever been a more tedious task? I highly doubt it... Anyway, after ironing what seemed like the 100th shirt of the evening, I looked up to see my other half, 'fussing!' Usually I can ignore him when he's doing one of his, 'man tasks' but this was different. He was actually attempting to tidy up and put things away, and not because I had asked him to! 

You can imagine my shock.

After observing him for a minute or two, I could see that he was well out of his depth. Every now and then he'd mutter.. 'Babe, where does ... go?' After the fifth or sixth time of him asking me, I snapped and blurted out that if he didn't know where we kept our towels by now, then he was never going to learn! (Yes, I am an awful person) I had gone from his fun, loving fiancée, to his mother, in around 3 seconds.. (Although, his actual mother is way less bitchy than me in fact and this makes me feel even more Cruella de Vil-esque than I am comfortable with!) 

I did apologise for my outburst, but I couldn't help but feel like guys get a pretty cushy deal around the house. Well mine at least anyway. He gets his meals cooked for him, clothes washed, apartment cleaned, lunches made, ironing done.. As well as being a down, right fabulous being when he gets home from work! It's a tough life right? I wish someone would take care of the home whilst I put my feet up and read a mag! 

Then my blender broke.

At this point the only valid solution was to call said slacker and ask him to fix it when he came home.. Which he did. Then there's the emails he sends whenever we need to organise a trip or shout at someone. When a wasp dares set foot in my apartment, who puts it in its place? You guessed it.. All the little odd jobs that some of us women, *cough* me, take for granted. Who even knew that bleeding radiators was a thing and to be fair, he does wash the dishes as I have a real issue with putting my hands in dirty water. Or that's what I tell him anyway. So rather than bitching about his lack of domestic prowess, I should really be high-fiving him for taking on all the itty, bitty tasks that, no doubt, would reduce me to tears. Both of boredom and frustration! 

So next time he puts my bed sheets on inside out and spends 20 minutes trying to erect an ironing board, I will remember that things could be worse, I could actually have to manage our finances, take out the rubbish and develop an understanding of screwdrivers.. (The non-alcoholic kind!) 

Kirsty xx