The high life is wasted on these low-life wives

WHEN I was six I got sick of reading about rabbits in aprons. The only other book in our house was a dictionary. I read it like a picture book. I fell in love with the look of words. My favourite was “uxorious”, and I am now surrounded by textbook examples of the syndrome — men who over-love their wives.

For a single working woman, it is these wives one wants to bite. I was trying to buy a clapped-out car, a scooter with a hood, and a man in the showroom, looking at a swervy little Mini Coupe, said about my car: “Oh, I would never let my wife drive anything so dangerous.” He might have added: “She is the mother of my children.”

Mothers are the next in the goddess line. Anyone can be a mother; I nearly have a few times. A wife is more difficult. Why did John marry Tanya? She is overweight, a zero-tasker and has a face like a Parmesan grater, but when he sees her his face lights up as if he has a remote in his pocket. Her most finessed activity is lifting a glass to her lips. He worships her. “Shhhh, Tanya is resting, has had a hectic week. I’m sending Tanya to Florence for a month, she loves Italy and she needs downtime.”

He supports her in everything, even when she insists that the baby be bathed in San Pellegrino.

When Tanya wanted out (an Italian with a Neymar hairdo), John had to pay her so she could keep up the lifestyle she was used to: manicure every Thursday, tennis lessons with a tanned T-shaped coach. Being the wronged party no longer counts. Tanya must also have the house, something Lindiwe Sisulu, Minister of Human Settlements, endorses. She is proposing that all government houses be given to the woman in the case of divorce.

My mate, the headshrink, says termagant wives instill skrik: “Just like Mum”. Many of them are practising sadists. The best beta blocker is a credit card branded into the bum.

One uxoree takes me shopping (the one who asked: “Lin, what does an electricity bill look like?”). She says: “Buy anything, I have Mike’s card.” This is a well-travelled card, it has voyager miles, it has been to Paris for a weekend. It is familiar with 5 stars, cashmere and boutique hotels. Mike’s card has been to a lot of places Mike can’t afford to go.

Why should a man, a pilot of an Airbus A320, with a swagger wallet, a cast-iron chin and blue eyes, need to please this low-wifer? A self-styled prophet on the Cape Flats says: “These wives put a love spell on a husband, they take blood from menstruation and from the elbow and take the dirty underwear and put it on the food of the husband. He will be following that woman for the rest of his life. She will be treating him as a slave.”

It’s as good an explanation as any. LS

’They put a love spell on a husband. He will be following that woman for the rest of his life’