A Man's got to do what a man's got to chew.

It was late afternoon when my Lovely G smiled at me and said, "Tonight I think we’ll have fishcakes, boiled potatoes and peas for dinner."

I smiled in response to her voice and replied, "That’ll be nice" and returned to whatever I was doing at the time. A couple of hours later I was in the library engrossed in some photography magazine that I had recently purchased and was working my way through some of the free hints and tips CD that had been included when I realised that time was marching on and our normal time to sit down to an evening meal was rapidly approaching. Feeling a bit thirsty I walked across the hall and into the kitchen to get myself a drink. As I poured the water from the tap something registered in my subconscious and I found myself turning and looking around the kitchen.

Hmmmn……...

No quiet hum came from our electric fan oven to indicate that something was cooking inside. Nothing on top of the gas hob either and across the room the dining table clearly hadn't been laid for dinner.

"Strange," I thought, 

I walked back along the hall to the lounge where the lovely G was sitting tapping away on her laptop. I stuck my head around the door and she turned to look at me as I asked,

"Are you making dinner?"

She looked quizzically back at me." No, why?"

"It's just that you’d decided what we were going to have and I assumed that you were going to make it. I didn't realise it was an instruction rather than an intent and so I've not done anything. I thought you were going to make it tonight for a change."

She looked at me with one of those pitying looks that women seem to be so good at around men, like they're dealing with dogs or small children who don't have the ability to reason yet, while I mumbled some mixture of confusion, disbelief and frustration back at her before heading off to the kitchen.

As I did I distinctly heard her say she'd be through to help in a moment.

A few moments later and everything was underway. With such a simple meal it's a matter of a moment or two before the fishcakes are in the oven, new potatoes, which don't even need peeling, are bubbling in a pot and I have some peas ready in the steamer. I'd just laid the table when I turned around to find my lovely G had arrived. She snuggled into me and gave me a cuddle with her head on my chest and made some of those contented noises that women do. The ones that are designed specifically to make men feel they are the providers of comfort; of safety; the masters of their universe. It's all rubbish of course but it works most of the time. Not tonight though.

"So exactly what part of dinner were you going to be helping me with - apart from eating it that is?."

Without raising her head {and with absolutely no trace of irony} she squeezed me for a second and purred,

"I'll do the dishes!"

I thought of the two plates, knives and forks, two glasses, one pot and steamer that were all going to go straight in the dishwasher and sighed resignedly. 

"Aye, thanks for that love!"

Sometimes a man's got to do what a man's got to chew.

See you later.

Listening to