That joke isn't funny anymore
Bad week in the Ruffles' house. Millie's been struck by a double blow of baby bug and uber-teething, which has made her very unhappy indeed. I had always assumed that when children were ill and they had to be off school or nursery that there was some sort of magic solution that is only revealed once you are with child.
There's not, it's very simple, when baby is ill you guiltily scratch around friends and relatives for help or leave work to tend to her using up holiday time and then, of course, you feel guilty for leaving work, even though you know that some things are more important than your monthly report.
Of course, Millie's illness means she's a 'poor little mite' but when I was struck down with it on Thursday, the instant accusation was that I was suffering from manfluenza.
If the bug that I caught off Millie remained Millie sized then it would barely have registered, but bugs don't work like that. They expand to the size of body they choose to occupy. I had the same illness as her, proportionally sized, yet I wasn't allowed to crawl around crying and filling my nappy because I was A Man.
I object to this simplifying of gender roles. I've had one day off work and school in at least 18 years. I've been ill on other occasions, but I've managed to get to work or I was on holiday in the first place. I don't really see why I should be tarnished with whatever convenient brush people choose to use. If I'm feeling crap, I don't need anyone else to tell me I'm not.
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