Marriage patriarchy coronavirus COVID-19 work from home indian men Life In The Times Of Corona

#BreakingNow: My Husband's Head. I Swear If The Corona Virus Doesn't Kill Him First, I Will.

( words)
*For representational purpose only.

24 March 2020, 9 pm
Bangalore

21 days. 21 f***ing days. I had wished for something like this, but a lockdown with my husband is a far cry from the second honeymoon I used to day-dream about. If the last three days were any indication, I should be running away from home right now. I'll tell you why. Because my husband is a pain in the a**.

There are no more excuses to make for men. Staying at home is like a time-travel episode to the 16th century where the wife is not even questioning her servitude.

Our society's association, in its infinite wisdom, has barred entry for all the cooks and maids. And guess who's picking up the load? Me, of course. The wife. And all the wives like me.

That whole "supportive husband" lie that we tell the world- we can see all the holes in that story now. In the whole process of not spreading the coronavirus, how about we don't spread men's lazy attitude also.

Sorry, I can't call it "lazy attitude". Kannada has the right word for it. "Th**** Kobbu" (bum fat). My husband (and yours, most likely) has too much of it. And that's making them say "manly" stuff like:

Baby, it's work FROM home, not work AT home.
Baby, I just finished office work, no? Give me a break.
(I did too, baby. Do you see ME taking a break?)
Who asked you to sweep AND mop today? Did I? Why can't you take it easy for a day? (Um, I don't know. Your mother will eat me alive because tomorrow is f***ing Ugadi and you never pick up after yourself).

I have had it. I am fed up. I can't keep looking at the pile of unfolded clothes on the sofa for days and days. I can't take his word for "I'll do it later". Later could be after I die also. Which, by the way, I don't think he'll notice.

The last time he was looking super-seriously into his phone, I caught him playing a GAME! F*** me! And he has the guts, the guts to say "No commute also, why can't you do some yoga in the morning?"

I'm sorry. I'm so sorry that I had your baby and have a career and keep this house running. I'm sorry I'm not organized enough to pay attention to my fitness.

Do you think it's surprising that Chinese couples are divorcing after the lockdown? Well, I could KILL my husband! Because if I leave him alive to be another woman's husband, he'll make her life miserable too.

I can't ask him to do any work because "be sensitive, baby. I'm also tired."

He won't volunteer to do any work because, obviously, he's an entitled little mother-f*****.

And I'm supposed to sing his praises till kingdom come because he washed the utensils five days ago.

Thank you, but no thank you. At this point, husbands are only good for one thing- their penises. But God help you if you have a husband like mine. Since the lockdown, his idea of "quality time" has graduated to both of us going to bed at the same time.

But make a move, and you'll hear the best joke that was ever cracked: "Not tonight, baby. I'm too tired."

So, here's how I'm using this lockdown period to better my life: I'm going to do nothing. Nada. Zip. I'll feed only myself, clean only my space, and do the bare minimum. In fact, I'll go the extra mile and flush the toilet after I use it. You see, I'm still better than you, dear husband. If I can do it all, so can you. Go discover your own super-powers.

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