Despite
the gloomy weather dampening my spirits, Women’s Day is the perfect opportunity
to appreciate the remarkable contribution of women to our society.
Before
I could open my eyes this morning and focus on my whereabouts, my wife had
swung into full control, reminding me of her fundamental role within the family
unit. Recovering from a deep sleep, I
could hear her mumbling tone – overpowering the ‘white noise’ of rain and
thunder, emerging from the android resting on my nightstand.
As
her commanding voice brought my dreamy world to reality, I decided to follow my
father’s advice and apologise for whatever I had done to annoy her.
“What
are you apologising for?” she questioned incomprehensibly.
As a youngster, my
father would advise me to apologise to a woman at the start of every day.
“Men are bound to
make mistakes, or allow women to conjure up feelings of disappointment. For that reason, it is best to apologise in advance.”
I finally made my
way to the bathroom, hoping to find some solace within the tiled walls, but the
noise continued to echo as my wife’s requirements were outlined for the
day.
Her nerves had
reached fever-pitch as she persevered through a labyrinth of tasks, preparing
for her exclusive fashion and jewellery event in honour of Women’s
Day. One of the disheartening
announcements referred to my meals for the day, forcing me to prepare my own
lunch and dinner. My thoughts
instantaneously shifted to the McDonalds
Drive Thru where a double cheeseburger with bacon could prove wonders for
my time management skills.
In fact, the devious
enemies trapped within my body, emerged after a two week silence, chanting
their pleasurable cries for junk food and soda.
I asked my work
colleagues to define the hype of Women’s Day, questioning my self-pity, and
hoping to discover a day set aside for men.
“Every day is Men’s
Day,” my female worker demanded.
I decided to abstain
from the torturous task of five frustrated women, charging above my desk, yapping
on about women’s rights, and outlining the arrogance expressed by their own spouses.
I
called my wife, informing her that dinner would be catered for by yours truly. Fortunately,
the call was interrupted by a thankful satellite malfunction; when our
conversation was finally restored, my wife was reassuring me that a
family-sized pizza would be collected from the local Pizza Hut, on her way home.
If
I had to evaluate my wife’s role within the family, I would have to honour her
with a medal of achievement. Firstly, I am extremely proud that she chose to
marry an exceptional human being, and for producing a male heir; secondly, for
having to put up with all my obsessiveness – which surprises me that her
frustration has not directed her towards an intoxicating habit for support.
Finally,
for her immense support which was evident during my six months of hospital
confinement, and a further six months when I was learning to walk again.
Happy Women’s Day my wonderful wife;
my love for you is unconditional.
Weight
for me tomorrow. Paul
Paul Lambis is the author of “Where is Home?” – A journey of hilarious contrasts. For more information on Paul Lambis, and to order his book online,
visit www.paul-lambis.com
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