Keris Stainton‘s fortnightly column on married life…
One of my favourite episodes of Friends (The One With the Chickenpox) features this exchange:
MONICA: You know what. Tomorrow I’m gonna do your clocks.
RICHARD: You’re gonna do what to my clocks.
MONICA: I’m gonna set them to my time.
RICHARD: Well, I’m confused. I thought we shared time.
Ha! Me and David certainly don’t share time. David does things to his own schedule, totally ignoring anyone else.
For example, often, at the weekend, I get up with our 4-year-old, Harry, while David stays in bed. And then at, say, 9am, David will get up and, within probably half an hour, will be nagging me and Harry to get out and do something. We’ll be having a nice relaxing morning and then David will start with, “Are we going out? Where are we going? Are you two getting dressed?” Etc. And my usual response is, “You’ve only just got up! Leave us alone!”
Or, the other day, Harry was watching a DVD, I was working away on the computer (okay, I was probably on Facebook) and David, apropos of nothing, decided it was time to go out. He put his coat on. He huffed up and down the hall. He rattled his keys. He said, “Come on, you two! You two are unbelievable! Come on!” Me and Harry were perfectly happy doing what we were doing, but David had decided it was time to go and so… it was time to go.
My dad used to do the exact same thing and my mum found it just as irritating as I do.
What’s it all about? Is it just a control freak thing? I suspect it has something to do with all those “jokes” about how women take so long to get ready. Perhaps women get ready when they’re ready to get ready (if you know what I mean) and perhaps that doesn’t always correspond with when a man is ready, the woman is at fault.
It’s a theory, anyway.