“There’s only five more days to Christmas and you’ve still got fifty thing’s on your list to do.
And what’s the man in your life doing? Well he’s feeling smug. He’s bought the book tokens, he’s ready with a glass of port for Santa and he’s cleared his sock drawer in anticipation…”
The Women’s Hour.
Now I very rarely go in for man bashing. For the most part I find them to be an amenable, helpful lot. No, really I do. Both my Dad and Mark are near perfect specimens of would- be house husbands. Except at Christmas time, when it is plain for all to see that the men in this family are from Mars and the women from the tinsel strewn Isle of Venus.
I know I am not alone. Men it seems get all the pleasure of Christmas without any of the hard work (unless you count going into the far reaches of the loft to fish out the decorations…). They just don’t seem to grasp the fact that Christmas doesn’t happen by magic. In fact, should we develop flu or a severe case of the can’t be bothered’s, there is a chance, dear men, that Christmas would not happen at all…
Is it any wonder we are tired, when our very own Santa’s are raring to go?