Yeah this reminds me a bit of when my husband tries to cook dinner.

“How thinly do I need to slice these mushrooms?”
“How much stock so I need?”
“What should I use to stir these onions?”
“How long do I cook this for?”
“Does this look cooked to you?”
“Can you help me please?”
“Should I use a frying pan or a saucepan?”
“Does it need to be at room temperature first?”
“What temperature do I cook this chicken at?”
“What temperature do I cook this lamb at?”
“How hot is the oven?”
“Shall we have broccoli or cabbage?”
“Should I use a spatula or a spoon?”
“Can you help me stir these lentils?”

Ad infinitum.

correct her grammar, point out that she’s not answered the questions and a billion other things, usually the same things repeat every night, occasionally with tears.

You do sound so supportive.

“Can you help me stir these lentils?”

I see the problem. For immediate effect simply replace veggie nonsense with sausage. He’ll know exactly what to do with sausage. All the other stuff you mentioned may be more tricky. Keep on correcting him/drilling it into him until he either cries or gets it right? Hide his PS/xbox controller until he gets it right?

Well the lentils usually have sausages in them, to be fair.

Well the lentils usually have sausages in them, to be fair.

Easier still! Remove lentils from equation, replace with slices of bread on a plate. Brown sauce. Job jobbed. 😉

I bought SHWBO one of these:

Now she shuts up moaning about Top Gear as long as I cook the bacon and show my moobs at least once a week.

Equality can kind of work, but it’s always a work in progress. Allegedly more to do with sex-wiring than actual expectations 😉

My wife is self employed. The first year she went and did her tax return, I put her in touch with an accountant. She decided he was too expensive (to be honest, her pay was too low really but that’s another matter) so she’d do it herself. Cue weeks of her saying “I don’t understand this bit” then me explaining it to her, her refusing to do what I suggest and going off doing her own thing, asking the same question the next evening, me suggesting maybe paying someone else £100 or so would allow her to do her job (and be well worth it for me).
I’m honestly not sure how we aren’t divorced yet.

Meanwhile on mumsnet there is a very similar thread… 😉

OH and 2 out of 3 daughters probably spend most of the time being exhasberate by me. But middle daughter makes me feel at home.
Whilst driving past a mile and half of ‘Nigel Mills – Conservative’ roadside placards, middle daughter chimes up;
‘Who would want to buy a conservatory off him?’
Bless.

This thread makes me both glad I’m single again…

But in a strange way I do miss pointless arguments.

Just to to be sure, I txtd this thread to SHWBO to ask if WABU and my DOH responded, but she went one further by pre-empting my response to her response::

“Well folks, just when I thought my better half didn’t fit the criteria for this macho, thumbs in braces, wife slagging matchathon, Mrs Malvern Rider offered a ‘clever’ contribution about one poster’s comment where he said ‘baby sheep’ instead of saying ‘lambs’.
TSK – scoff, snort, – she just doesn’t get sarcasm *sigh*

Spooky. Mind-readers. Except for when mind-reading may actually be useful. ie:

‘What batteries go in here, little ones or big ones?’

For some reason they cannot then read your mind and you have to stop whatever it was you were doing, walk over, open the device and say the words ‘double-A.’

At which point I now become the mind-reader because I know the next words she utters will be

‘Are those the little ones, or the big ones?’

😉

igm – Member

Meanwhile on mumsnet there is a very similar thread…

Can’t be that similar – they’re allowed sweary words!

Dishwasher..
The other half insists on loading it in such a way that bowls are tucked inside each other so that she can get more in.
I don’t know how many times I have to explain that the water needs to get to the surfaces, the dishwasher doesn’t magically dissolve any food remnants that have been left on any surface windows the machine….
Glasses inside each other like the glass collectors in the pub used to do…bowls inside each other… argh

Oh and yes, cooker is either 220 degrees or off….

Whilst driving past a mile and half of ‘Nigel Mills – Conservative’ roadside placards, middle daughter chimes up;
‘Who would want to buy a conservatory off him?’

😆

But women take on the ‘mental load’ these days.

Look it up. In fact, here? you go.

http://www.workingmother.com/this-comic-perfectly-explains-mental-load-working-mothers-bear

In our house, this manifests itself as, for example, the breadboard, knife and butter having been put away before the toaster has popped and me getting a bollocking for not tidying up. See also, tea towel on worktop when I’m washing a cup that materialised mid dry.

Nothing to do with the general (natural) inequality of paternity and the domino effect on roles, oh no. It’s just that blokes are shit.

You do sound so supportive.

Supportive ended about a fortnight ago when I said (after the last one) ‘unless you get this one done ahead of time I’m going riding all weekend and avoiding it’.

Unfortunately, puppydog eyes were deployed and I ended up typing, again.

In our house, this manifests itself as, for example, the breadboard, knife and butter having been put away before the toaster has popped and me getting a bollocking for not tidying up. See also, tea towel on worktop when I’m washing a cup that materialised mid dry.

Nothing to do with the general (natural) inequality of paternity and the domino effect on roles, oh no. It’s just that blokes are shit.

Yup, I can definitely relate to that. She swooped in and had a go at me for not putting the empty bottle of mouthwash in the bin whilst I was mid gargle yesterday!

That* comic from the blokes perspective: “I got home, sat down for 5 minutes, and the last few hours were immediately my fault”.

*I’m not being sexist, exactly the same happens in our house if I’m having a mare of a time in the kitchen or servicing a car, bike fettling, etc. She sits there until I’m at (or beyond) the point of complete mental breakdown; naked in the fetal position crying uncontrollably before she offers to help.

My Mrs thinks food immediately turns into the most poisonous substance known to mankind at midnight on the best before date.

And that chicken you are going to cook in the next half an hour must immediately be put into the fridge when we get home from the shops.

Yes I’ve tried to explain. God knows I’ve tried!

You lot married the wrong woman.

I mean, yes all bike maintenance is down to me (but that’s because I enjoy tinkering with bikes) but apart from that both of us can do most stuff we need to.

You lot married the wrong woman.

I’m pretty sure I didn’t. She is pretty good at a lot of stuff and we certainly don’t have “boys jobs and girl jobs”. I am a bit hopeless but hey, she deals with it. 😉

Unlike the rest of you.