Real men don't wear dressing gowns

The other half is rubbish at Birthdays, or any occasion where a card may be necessary. My son was born in February and it was mother’s day a few weeks later. After several subtle reminders (IT’S MOTHERS DAY ON SUNDAY. MY SON WANTS TO BUY ME A PRESENT ETC ETC) I was presented with two tea-towels, three bars of soap and a blank card signed off with 'Regards'. I kid you not. Of course I didn't tell him this was unacceptable, I sulked for about 6 weeks.  Having said that throwing the bars of soap across the room in a breast feeding hormonal frenzy should’ve served as some kind of hint. Seventeen months later they are still on the bathroom shelf, gathering dust. The other half refers to them as my 'best' soaps as if there were some kind of soap hierarchy. In fact they are there in silent protest gathering dust, a tool to be gazed upon when I am feeling particularly angry about something and need that final push into full blown row mode.

Then there was the Birthday where he had 'a surprise' for me. The surprise was lunch at his mothers with four OAP’s. One a ninety year old woman wearing a bad syrup.. which was at least amusing if nothing else?

There was the one where he didn’t get me anything at all because 'he didn’t have time" IT’S ON THE SAME DAY EVERY YEAR! and the one where he brought me a pair of latex pants as if I were a member of the cast of Hollyoaks. I really can’t think of anything else to say about them other than that one night when id had a few wines I thought I’d try them on. It took me 15 mins to get them on and 45 mins to get them off and even though I am a size 8 there were bits of fat poking out of them defiantly. One side effect was a Brazilian wax and I think other half would’ve been disappointed with the sight so I didn’t inflict it on him.

This year I’m trying to promote harmony at home so I took it upon myself to organise my own birthday and gave clear instruction as to what was expected. “buy a card with the words MUMMY on the front from the little man and let step-daughter choose her own... nothing funny and nothing that’s reduced. Things get reduced for a reason. Oh, and get the little man to scribble on it or something”. “Don’t waste your money on a gift (and I meant it), we are getting married in four months time and I want it to go ahead. “

I set about finding something for us to do ‘together, sans kids’ and settled on a weekend at a health spa. We have only been out twice together in 18 months and have not had a night away in two years, but that needn’t matter because I have a pre planned list of topics suitable for discussion should we found ourselves alone for more than five minutes.

When I mentioned the spa to the other half he went pale and for once was lost for words. I suggested a look at the website might reassure him. I’m not wearing a dressing gown he protested.  I’m not eighty and besides real men don’t wear dressing gowns.  It might be appropriate at this point to mention that other half is 15 years older than me and rather sensitive about his age.

The website did nothing to ease his fears, the first photo we saw a snap shot of a couple in their 60’s (I’m being conservative with the ages on the off chance they read this) dressed in white gowns walking across a lawn as if heading back to the home or to some swiss clinic to be ‘put down’. I burst out laughing but the other half ‘put his foot down’ and declared we could go to the hotel half a mile up the road instead.

Still... I am in charge and after dropping off the little man at my mother’s we were on our way.

On arrival I was greeted by a sickeningly attractive but sour faced looking lady who offered to check us in before reeling off a list of the treatments ‘tailor made for a pregnant woman’! I would’ve been offended but I in no way look pregnant so I chose to play along with her instead. Encouraging her by saying “looks lovely, can’t wait and when I got carried away...I think the baby will like that one aswell”. Strange thing was the other half didn’t bat an eyelid; he just sat there grinning like Jack Nicholson playing the joker. When she got to the end of the list I noticed the two treatments I had actually booked tagged on and her face suddenly dropped, becoming more sullen as if that were possible. “there must be a mistake here” she stated. You can’t have these in your condition”, picking up the phone with her manicured nails. Caught out I ushered her to put it down and just blurted out “ACTUALLY, IM NOT PREGNANT BUT I JUST DIDNT BOTHER TO TELL YOU”. She looked at me as if I’d just stepped off a spaceship and said “BUT MADAM, YOU JUST SAID YOU WERE”. Other half must’ve realised that this could be a long fruitless conversation and interjected “SHE’S NOT WELL, SORRY, THATS WHY WERE HERE”. Grinning. Sour face laughed awquardly and grinned back at him.

Our room was travel inn fare but with the added bonus of complimentary slippers and robes, i felt instantly at home. Other half spent the day acting as if his manhood were being challenged by strutting around in horrendously tight trunks that I didn’t even know he owned and proclaiming to any female that would listen that I had forced him there. Unfortunately for me lots of females did listen to him. It was probably the pants... it was difficult to look anywhere else.

With new found confidence other half began settling in “YOUVE ONLY BEEN IN THE STEAM ROOM FOR FIVE MINUITES HUN, YOU REALLY NEED TEN TO SEE ANY BENEFIT” AND “I CAN TELL YOU USE A GYM”, with a wink to the old lady next to me. Eventually this display got the better of me and I retreated to our room agreeing to meet up later.

An hour into ‘brides’ magazine and several texts to my mother asking if the little man was ok later (me: All ok? Mum: stop texting me while i’m drinking gin me: very bloody funny, how’s the little one, mum: pissed), other half burst into the room. “I COULD GET USED TO THIS, IVE JUST BEEN CHATTING TO A LOVELY YOUNG LADY ABOUT COLON HYDROTHERAPY” he stated, pulling his robe from its hanger and donning it like Hugh Heffner. “YOU MEAN COLONIC IRRIGATION?” I asked, “NO HYDROTHERAPY, ITS MORE OF A HOLISTIC EXPERIENCE HERE”, he informed me.  Wishing Id brought along the rubber pants I suddenly felt insecure.

Dinner did nothing to allay those feelings as we walked into the restaurant and several attractive women waved or grinned at him. Once I had consumed my half a chicken leg and beetroot jus I found my eyes darting about suspiciously.

By mid morning on the day of our departure we had completed several ‘group treatments’ whereby every female knew other half’s name and I had become invisible. He was strutting through the place like a peacock telling me that he felt 30 again. WELL YOU ARE 48 SO SOD OFF, I replied grumpily.

At ‘check out’ other half told sour face that we’d definitely be back soon and referred to her as Amanda. As we walked to the car she shouted. “GOOD LUCK WITH THE BABY”. Bitch.

By the time we were back at my mum’s I was stressed to boiling point. When I walked through her front door I was met by a scene that wouldn’t have been out of place in ‘saving Private Ryan’. There was ‘stuff’ everywhere... food on the floor, cushions removed from sofas and mini cheddars sticking out of the DVD player. As I scrambled around tidying up, with little man grappling to be picked up my mother asked “HOW WAS IT?” to which other half replied “BEST BIRTHDAY EVER”. Next year I will ask for soap.