When supper was finished, I wanted to watch the cricket results. About an hour later I went to find her, and she was washing up. I said, "Do you want a hand?"and she said "As you can see, I've finished." Then I watched some more telly and went to bed. She was asleep and kept on refusing to have sex with me. In the morning she blew me up for not contributing or helping.
I can't understand it. I don't know how to cook and it's different for her, because she enjoys all that homely stuff. I'd be just as happy to have an Indian takeaway and then we wouldn't need to go shopping or wash up.
Uncle Ony: Well, this is the very nub of the modern battle of the sexes, isn't it? Both have outside work, but in the home the female wants to continue her traditional homemaking tasks only if the male matches her activity in ways he is neither trained nor inclined to do. The male relishes the fruits of homemaking, but given the choice of living more simply or having to share what he sees as unnecessary work, would prefer the former. The only answer is compromise. What about taking it in turn? She does the work for "her" nights at her flat, and you do your nights at your flat, when you order the Indian takeaway, throw the cartons in the bin and wash the forks.
Aunt Ag: Oh for God's sake, evolve boy. Of course you don't want to live like a pig, of course it isn't "different for her" because she likes washing up. It's just your justification for being bone-idle and waited on. Get your finger out and stop being such a lazy bloody slob, and you might just hang on to her. Frankly, if I was her I'd have chucked you already .
There is a rather annoying couple who live a few doors away from us. My boyfriend and I are quite happy with each other's company and have plenty of friends, but Dave and Yvonne seem desperate to be with other people and are always inviting us round, popping in, trying to join in whatever we are doing. Whenever they have a dinner party, they more or less force us to come along even if we say no, but when I have a dinner party I don't want to ask them, because I don't like them all that much, and suspect no one else does either. The trouble is, if Yvonne gets to hear about it she invites herself, and I feel so guilty refusing, as she's cooked us supper so often.
Uncle Ony: Goodness me, whatever happened to the spirit of neighbourliness and generosity? Do a couple have to be the most popular people in the world to grace your dinner table? Why are you so lacking in confidence that you cannot ask your real friends to tolerate a pair of slightly annoying but kindly neighbours once in a while? You can't have it both ways. If you really don't want their friendship, then resolutely refuse all their invitations. But you might find a pair of genuinely good neighbours are more valuable than you think.
Aunt Ag: Darling, let's be brutally honest for a second .You're not lonely, because you're nice. They are desperate for friends, because they're pains in the arse. They're not being kind or neighbourly, they're just being selfish and manipulative. If you really feel you should be helping lonely neighbours, contact Help the Aged. Otherwise nip it in the bud before you find them living in your house, Yvonne sleeping with your boyfriend and you feeling guilty about minding about it.
Every day on my way to work I pass some traffic lights where youths are washing windscreens. It always puts me in a foul mood. They rush up to the cars like muggers, frightening me out of my wits. They say, "Cheer up, it might never happen." Even when I shake my head angrily and say no, they insist on washing the windscreen anyway, saying, "Free of charge", but then make me feel mean if I don't pay, moaning about being homeless. I start off having a screaming row and end up giving them a pound. The lights change when the windscreen is still covered in soap. If I avoid traffic lights it will add another 10 minutes to the journey. What shall I do?
Uncle Ony: You're right, this is an infringement of civil liberties, an invasion of the vehicle as personal space, and extremely dangerous.Your problem is one of assertiveness and confused signals. Watch for the approach of the youths, and say loudly and clearly: "I forbid you to wash my windscreen. If you do, I shall report you to the police." If they persist, do not give them money, and report them.
Aunt Ag: Oh darling, lighten up and stop being so cross. We must all learn to be gracious with our admirers. Next time these lithe young men rush to perform some menial little task for you, instead of fuming with resentment, savour and admire those taut muscles and firm buttocks as they lean across your car bonnet eager to serve you. When their work is over, don't insult them with money, but blow a grateful kiss and roar off. If an open hand appears at your window, give it a playful tweak and say: "Stop right there, you naughty boy. I'm old enough to be your great-aunt." You'll probably find the divine boys quickly tire of their task. Then you may rather miss that delightful frisson, in which case offer them 20p a time and everyone will be happy.Reuse content