A Kept Man?

A new survey has revealed that half of a man’s clothing is bought by his wife. He purchases 30% while the rest are made up of gifts from friends and relatives.

Well, for me this certainly isn’t true.

I haven’t bought a stitch in years.

Before Gill moved in, I’d buy clothes as and when I needed them (rarely). Shirts and slacks for work. Occasional ties. Jeans when the old ones fell apart. I’d only ever have what I needed.

But when she took over the purse strings my wardrobe got thoroughly freshened up. Lots of old ‘favourites’ disappeared and since then she has done the shopping. Shirts come and go. New undies magically appear in the drawer and if I look at a “fab” shirt I think would look great on me I get “the stare” and walk on.

Unlike me, Gill loves shopping and will happily go out when I get home to do a full grocery shop. She makes all the major appliance purchases (usually online and sourced by me – I’m good at digging out a bargain) and likes nothing more than choosing new drapes or bedding.

Purgatory for me would be an eternity in a mall with an endless shopping list and shop-assistant imps poking me with their forks.

This trend has developed over the years to the point where I’m a bit like royalty – I rarely carry money. Which is a bit odd for someone who works in a supermarket. I pay all my bills online.

I know what to buy. I just, well, don’t.

In my defence, I should say I am not the “kept man”.

Ironing is my province. She has tried ironing my shirts, but you know how you like them and it’s better if I do it. So I now do all the ironing, including school uniform.

Sewing is mine too. I hem the girls’ school slacks, fix holes in sweaters and repair torn seams. It’s “Dad’s sewing box” not Mum’s.

I can cook a full Sunday Roast and my mash potato is, according to the girls, better than Mum’s (tho they would never tell her).

I bath the babes and do my share of smelly nappies too.

So my one concession is having my clothes bought for me.

That’s not a bad thing is it?