don't call her Posh Spice for nothing, huh?
only has Vicky Adams bagged striker Beckham for a hubby,
she even has him doing the housework.
about having your beefcake and eating it, too. It's not
enough that macho misters are cheerfully chipping in with
housework - they now have to live with ridicule from the
week, for instance, fellow columnist Adeline Goh claimed
that guys who think they can play house are just kidding
around (''House- training the husband'', Project Eyeball,
that's really hitting below the apron.
all, even if footballer Beckham doesn't score on the culinary
front, he's still bringing home the bacon.
not as if Ms Modern Gal is likely to fare any better, after
leaving the dusting to Mum and maid all her life. What makes
you think Miss Mango '99 will morph into Martha Stewart
right after the wedding?
least, real men today are well-versed in multi-tasking (look
at our spiffy Pentium 4 PCs!). So what if we take short-cuts
to housekeeping in the name of efficiency?
needs all the arcane arrangements (white towels in the second
drawer, pink towels in the third drawer) or mystical rituals
(''twist the mop twice clockwise and once anti-clockwise'')
females consider ''proper'' witchcr-, er, housework?
up ladies: Guys don't rely on the phases of the moon when
deciding whether to clean the windows or bake apple strudel.
We do it when it needs to be done, when we're asked (nicely),
or heck, whenever we feel like it.
when we do get down to business, we employ the full force
of God's greatest gift to Man - no, not maid agencies, but
proud house spouse myself, I stock a full range of the latest
time-saving devices in the coolest colours - from my razor-edged
Laser Fusion carving knife (never needs sharpening!), to
my double-action Moulineux vacuum cleaner and Kenwood SuperChef
Blender (It slices! It dices!).
the definition of efficiency: Minimum effort, maximum work
done. So if we guys don't seem to be spending much time
on housework, it's because we've found a way to do it faster.
the reason why we know how to do that, is that we devote
the rest of our time fiddling with new gadgets.
humbug, you say? Try programming the VCR all by yourself,
without the manual.
men come from a breed of tough immigrants, who had to cope
with living alone the moment they stepped off the boat.
grandfather, a coolie and driver, was a genius with his
hands, and could conjure up a makeshift broom, spatula or
toilet brush from his trusty toolbox.
speaking of child rearing: The good men (and, to be fair,
women) of my grandfather's generation - with their stock
of stories and worldly wisdom - had more parenting skills
in their little fingers than your average yuppie backed
by Dinah from Dhaka.
they coped with whole broods of screaming grandkids in relative
today may not have endured the same hardships, but, heck,
we've got National Service where most guys hone their hyper-efficient
time for all this hang-up-clothes-before-spin- drying-or-they'll-smell
crap. Our motto on cleaning detail: There'll always be another
dust bunny; deal with it.
more thing: Why is it so difficult to imagine men as great
cooks? After all, we love food and are much more appreciative
of good chow than Ally-wannabes on anorexic diets.
top chefs in the world are male. Jamie Oliver may seem to
be fooling around in The Naked Chef, but he can whip a female's
butt when it comes to a souffle.
not talking Maggie-mee either, but haute cuisine.
Why, I'll match my steak au poivre with anything
you ladies can cook up. In half the time.
who insist on sweeping statements about how useless guys
are at home know where they can stick their brooms.