So I have it on good authority there are a few people of the male persuasion tuning into the Wonderful Wagon. Thank you and you are all most welcome. I am very flattered and also feeling a bit stressed under the extra pressure because most of, ok, all of my stuff is aimed at a certain demographic; that being the mammies. Mister Husband doesn’t count because he thinks everything I do is wonderful anyway. Well, he’d better! He’s probably reading this standing outside the pub right now! While I am at home with the kids (Insert smiley face here). Plus he is reading about his own kids so it follows that he thinks everything they do is also wonderful. Except when they fight, shout, scream and roar, wake up too early, wreck his place of work, demand hot chocolate and pancakes of a morning out and don’t eat any of it, break our stuff, draw on the walls and refuse to settle down for the night in under an hour. Except for all of that. You know yourself. To anyone else tuning in, who is not the owner of a small person, pull up a chair. I am extending the biggest welcome of all to you because you have no reason at all to be here. I would like to take this opportunity and apologise to those of you who, in the comfort of your own leaba of a Saturday morning, are finding a Smart Phone thrust into your face by your wife and ordered to “read that!” I know this has happened to at least one of you out there and I hope you don’t take it too personally. I can only assume (without making an ass out of you and me) that your other half was amused by my ramblings and certainly not trying to ram my opinions down your throat. Of course, there are loads of subliminal messages in my meanderings but try to ignore those. (Insert another smiley face here) I am going to go out on a limb now and risk blowing up everything I have worked so hard to portray; that our life is hard, minding kids would put years on you and we never ever get a minute to ourselves, going to the bathroom is a spectator sport and kids are terrors for swiping the treat to go with your coffee as soon as your back is turned. All of that is true, and I could give you plenty more examples but I know Saturday morning lie on’s are precious so I won’t hold you much longer. Yes, we drink wine (see above for reasons why) and lots of coffee (because we can). But would you really begrudge us any of that after we gave birth to your child? You were there, right? Don’t get me wrong. I am a huge fan of childbirth. Seriously. Whenever someone I know is close to giving birth, I am almost jealous. I envy them. It is an incredible event. But again you know that because you were present at the birth of your own child/ren. So I reckon you deserve a medal too because if it wasn’t for you, at the risk of stating the very obvious, there would be no children. You’ll get us back someday. You really will. Believe it or not, we are looking forward to getting you back too. It’ll be like the first flush of love all over again. Only better. This time we’ll have age and experience on our side. And hopefully a bit of extra money to throw about. There will be no more sitting in that fabulous huge pub window of a Sunday night and drawing straws to see which of us will be ringing in sick in the morning with an imaginary kidney infection. (Apologies Johnson Stevens. No, I wasn’t on the verge of needing dialysis. At least not for the reasons I led you to believe!) It won’t be a real UTI either, due to old age; it will be a complete total and well deserved “fuck it all” attitude. The kids at this stage, will be in secondary/college and the mortgage is paid off. (Yes! The mortgage is paid off!) We will have the house to ourselves and can come and go as we please. Maybe even the odd long weekend away. Imagine that? So just hang on in there. Listen to the giving out for a little bit longer. Help out for a little bit longer still. You will reap many rewards. Oops. That wasn’t so subliminal! But hey, no-one’s arguing that we have it any harder than you. I reckon it’s much of a muchness. We get to stay at home with the kids all day. Every day. You get to go out to your place of work. Have a lunch break. Get paid. Come home and listen to us moaning. Like I said; much of a muchness. (Insert yet another smiley face here!) Don’t tell anyone I said this but I reckon you menfolk probably have it a touch harder than us wimmin. So someone has to take pity on us. And someone did! There is a lovely lady out there whose name escapes me, actually I haven’t got a clue what her name is, but she has taken our plight on board and put pen to paper to give us something to read other than how to get your child to sleep at night, what to cook in order to tempt a fussy toddler and with more words and a lot less pictures than the glossies. It’s called “mummy porn” by all accounts and it looks like you’re benefitting from it again. Well, it’s a hard knock life for us stay at home mothers you know. It’s not all about coffee mornings, drinking wine and 50 Shades of Grey! Now get up man, for god sake and feed your kids!