Monday, 22 May 2006

A complaint about not being able to complain

Almost everything I read in magazines, newspapers, books, tv (okay i don't read the tv but you get my drift) that deals with males and females and particularly husbands and wives and children, moans about the fact that men don't help enough around the house and if the wife gets sick she's supposed to deal with it and get better because the man is useless and the kiddie-winkles need her and (once again) men are useless. It's such a good whinge and I'm upset that I can't use it!!!

Having just had a delightful bout of gastro that lasted from Thursday night till Sunday morning, I can unhappily say that MrNw was very useful and looked after me on my deathbed whilst also attending to Torby who was also a little bit vomity and wobbly-bottomed and required a visit to hopsital (more about that later)

Yes, the horridly supportive and clever husband manged to ensure I had lots of naps and and rehydrating beverages and even some nice vegetarian sushi when I felt like it and attended to the little one in his sickness (little feeds every hour or so) and do the washing up and clothes washing and newspaper buying and everything.

And it's not the first time he's done stuff like this either

The bastard!

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