I’ve decided that I’d like a PA.  Just because it would be nice for someone to deal with all my annoying personal admin.  It would free up so much time to focus on other things. Important stuff that I don’t have time for these days, like sit ups, coming up with my Dragon’s Den idea, writing a masterpiece, fake tanning… that sort of thing. Someone who could do the washing, ironing and occasionally the cooking would be really helpful to have around.  The only other request is that these services be entirely free.  Shockingly, I came to the alarming evaluation that I was essentially looking for a slave.

Now, I’m not normally an advocate for slave labour, so I have come up with a theory. I propose that what I need is a socially acceptable circumstance that brought someone into my life that allowed me to devolve all responsibility of pretty much everything dull and domestic. To give credit where it’s due, for the first 18 years of my life, my Mum took on this role.  Now, too old to give her my washing and too ashamed to give her my credit card bill, I realise that what I need is to get myself a wife!

I remember the days when I could count the number of friends that were in relationships on one hand. Everyone made a special effort to be free and single, myself included.  Now it seems most people are co-habiting, engaged or married and I can see why more and more guys are getting down on one knee.  A diamond is a good investment when you consider that it pretty much guarantees that for the rest of your life/marriage it will, if not eliminate completely, significantly reduce all responsibilities at home.

From what I can gather from years of research into wifery, most seem to do pretty much everything. Washing, ironing, cleaning, paying bills, picking up dry cleaning, making dinner, taking the car for it’s MOT, booking holidays etc and a fair amount hold down a job too.  It’s never been a role I’ve particularly aspired too myself, not that I want to be a spinster or anything, I just didn’t imagine myself seeing out my days sweating over an ironing board.  I know a lot of lovely, educated girls who are more than happy to take on the wife role, and the older I get, I have to admit, it does get more appealing.  Only because it’s not all that different to working full time, (paperwork, phone calls, emails) only you have a bit more time to do your hair, the commute is a lot less painful and if you want to spend all day in your jammies, no one need ever know.

I’m still not quite ready to succumb to the matriarchal structure entirely, although I can’t deny that it’s creeping up on me: I’ve just had a call from Kwik Fit to find out the car had passed the MOT (it was a very close call) have planned dinner and have just put a load of washing on.

Although, if I had me a wife, I could have spent my time watching the football, drinking beer and farting.

Never mind.