The Remote Takeover

loosing-control

I think that in this day and age there is a fine line between chivalry and #everydaysexism. I have never really known where that line is, or whether in fact there is no line at all, but instead a broad grey smudge encumbered with man traps.

My twisted interpretation of how I can be chivaliras in modern times (with as little effort as possible) is this:

I have pretended over the years that things in the house are far more complicated than they actually are. When my partner asks how to boost the boiler or reset the fuse box or change the TV from Netflix to The TV box or something, I  sigh heavily (hopefully, in a worldly and intellectual manner) and explain that it has been set up very complicatedly or that it has a  ‘tricky knack’. I then rise dramatically from the chair, as though I have been asked to go and fight a wolf pack or punch over a tree for fire wood, and selflessly resolve the issue… and then return victorious… like a hero [in my mind].

This cleverly crafted idea has recently fallen apart, as my partner has now realised that she is going to have to spend some time in the house without me, so whenever she has asked how to do something, and I have risen from my throne, to embark on my altruistic heroes crusade up to the boiler to add an hour extra of hot water, she has taken to stopping me and saying ‘No! I actually need to know this now! You won’t be here when I am on maternity!’

This is shortly followed by her being vocally very unimpressed that the only things separating herself from my omnipotent house powers, of being able to bring light, heat, hot water, entertainment and sound, as if by magic are:

  • The ‘other’ button on the boiler.
  • The ‘other’ switch on the fuse box.
  • The ‘e’ button on the remote control.
  • The Wifi, which occasionally needs resetting.

This is in no way a slur against my partners ability to use basic technology, but more, a credit to my persuasiveness and deceptiveness about the complexities of simple tasks and my ability of making them sound very unappealing.

So, in one foul swoop, I have lost my self-appointed special ‘alpha-male’ house powers and she has gained her very real ‘able to give the gift of life’ powers!

Everyday I appear to be becoming more and more surplus to demand! If they invent a way of opening jars easily, I might become entirely obsolete.

 

 

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