South Africa celebrates Woman’s day on 09 August every year. One might wonder why women requires such a special, annual day? And if one is stupid enough to ask that question in the presence of said women, one might get a reply such as: “Because men gets a special day, everyday.”
I would argue this statement, if I didn’t ruin Woman’s day. In my defense, it wasn’t done on purpose. I usually don’t indulge in self-sabotage when it comes to the opposite sex. I consider myself in tune to the needs of those who run the world. At least most of the time.
I would like to offer three arguments as mitigating circumstances before I continue to explain how I single-handedly destroyed any fond memories of the celebratory day of woman in 2016.
- I’ve just return from a stint in the US which has a six hour time difference.
- I spend a week on my own, doing things my way and more importantly, in my own time.
- The Olympic Games only comes around every four years.
Everything started out well because I was asleep and couldn’t get out of bed. It felt like I slept for 2 years or like I haven’t slept for 2 years. I couldn’t decide. My head was void of any thought and feeling and my eyes were swollen shut. I looked (and felt) like Rocky after ten rounds in the ring. I actually managed to sound like him too. Jet-lag is not for the faint-hearted.
When I finally managed to drag my weary body out of bed and through a shower, I didn’t feel better at all. It showed. In my mood. In my face. In my composure. Or the lack thereof. I wasn’t just Grumpy, I was Grumpy on steroids after having to sit through an advanced math lecture. I’m not proud of it. But it is what it was. I just wanted to be left alone and watch archery or rowing or synchronized diving or anything else that could be done whilst vegging in front of the television.
Wife, on the contrary, was cheerily trimming roses outside and tried her best to coerce her husband, who she hasn’t seen for a week, out of the shade and into the sun. I sometimes remember my responsibility as a husband and managed to trim a whole tree before falling victim to the desire of doing nothing again. This time it involved volleyball. Then Dude started pestering us for food, for he is always hungry.
No seriously, my son can get up from the table, walk around the house and return 84 seconds later wanting to know if there is anything left to eat. I’m not sure what happens to the calories he consumes because it doesn’t seem to go anywhere or get adsorbed in his body in any way. If only eating was an Olympic event…
Wife abdicated responsibility of providing food for the day because it was Woman’s day. And that seems to be reason enough. Whilst the family decided on what to get, which implies trying to reconcile four different opinions as to what is crap and what is not, Princess broke her father’s headphones. Father lost his shit completely. Why? F*ck knows and he’s not telling. Father freaked out like a spoiled brat about all things stupid. The family looked at him in complete surprise.
As we drove to get some chicken, Wife took the time to highlight the need for Father to get his shit together and calm the f*ck down. Or go to bed. Those were not her exact words, as she’s an angel, but Father got the message loud and clear. It’s never fun to have a mirror shoved in your face showcasing bad behavior. But it’s necessary because you can only modify behavior when you see it from a different perspective. We’re all human. At least I can always attempt to be better at being me.
I did what any self-respecting man would do when I returned home. I apologized to my family and blamed jet-lag. The good news is that they still love me. Is there anything more gratifying than a heart-felt apology?
After lunch I slept again and woke up feeling like a million bucks. In American dollar terms, for that statement means nothing in my local currency. All things forgotten, we rented a movie and snuggled and laughed the night away. The cherry on top was watching the Blitzbokke beat France in the play-offs on their road to gold. Good times.
Oh, and that reminds me, I need to get some flowers on the way home as I’m re-celebrating the women in my life. And they deserve it; yesterday, today and every day.