Why I wish my husband was like Philip May
Have you heard the one about henpecked men? Outside the gates of heaven there are two lines, one – with a queue that stretches as far as the eye can see – is signposted “Henpecked Men”; the other “Non-henpecked Men”. A single man stands in that line. Amazed at his accomplishment, St Peter approaches him. “How on earth did you do it?” he enquires. Puzzled, the man replies: “I don’t know what you’re talking about – my wife told me to stand here.”
Every father of a bride-tobe is henpecked to within an inch of his life, but when I saw the picture of Michael Middleton clutching a ream of Pippa-tastic wedding instructions outside the church his daughter is to be married in on Saturday, I laughed so hard I nearly burst a blood vessel in my eye. I would give a vital organ to read those Excel spreadsheets. One look at Pippa tells you that this is a girl who isn’t afraid to use a Stabilo Boss highlighter. And I think we’re all aware that beneath the word “henpecked” in the dictionary, there is a picture of Michael. He is wearing a suit
(picked out by Carole) that he wouldn’t have liked back when he had opinions about the kind of suits he wore, and he is smiling because his wife and daughters told him to. But do not feel sorry for him. Michael lives a peaceable existence. He never has to worry about what to do next because there is always one of three heavy-onthe-eyeliner Russian doll-style brunettes around to tell him.
But don’t get me wrong, I’m not being sneery. Far from it, I’m straightforwardly jealous. As someone who has zero sway or influence over her husband’s actions I would love to go on some sort of henpecking course – perhaps hosted by Carole Middleton – who would share nuggets like: “Force him to wear a Connecta Baby Carrier wherever he goes. Nobody wants to sleep with a man wearing a Velcro-on womb.” “Every time he picks up the phone, get on the other line and bark, ‘Who is this anyway?’.”and: “Always pick fault with any flight, hotel, restaurant table and family outing booked or organised by him. Sometimes just sighing deeply and repeatedly is enough.”
Because of the extra time that not having to make any of your own decisions frees up, I also have a theory that henpecked men are some of the most successful. Michael was a flight attendant when he met Carole; he is now a wealthy entrepreneur with an 18-acre Tudor-style manor and has a future king as a son-inlaw. See, too, the newly released fly-on-the-wall documentary showing the French president-elect Emmanuel Macron being told “No, you’re not to eat crap,” by his wife Bibi when he asks for chocolate and “Well, stop it!” when he admits, on the phone, that he is watching the football with his mates.
We could learn a lot from these couples. And as Philip May said on The One Show last week, “there is give and take in every marriage”. Isn’t it just simpler if you do all the giving and she does all the taking? And perhaps occasionally making it clear to the “bloody difficult woman” you love, adore and genuflect before that you are still your own man?
Philip may not get to decide if he takes the bins out, but “I get to decide when I take the bins out”, he points out. And if that’s all you’ve got, it’s an important distinction.
‘Isn’t it just simpler if you do all the giving and she does all the taking?’