My man’s so like George Clooney ( in just one way)

GEORGE CLOONEY played a blinder when he revealed he was doing the laundry, the washing-up and even a spot of darning during lockdown, leaving wife Amal to get on with her job of saving human rights. Can that man do no wrong?

Clooney sounds pretty sanguine about being confined to base with his wife and three-year-old twins. He certainly hasn’t given any interviews saying he can’t wait to get on the first private jet out of here for a bit of roistering with some old mates on Sunset. Or even party with a case of the finest Italian red at his villa on Lake Como.

While in most ways he sadly doesn’t resemble that many men of my acquaintance, in this particular way he’s one of the boys. It seems that men aren’t missing their friends as much as women.

Of course, as it’s been shown again and again that women are still doing the lion’s share of domestic chores and home schooling, often alongside their own work.

The much-pilloried Government Stay Home, Save Lives advert, picturing the woman of the house ironing, sweeping and teaching while a man relaxes on the sofa with his arm around the kids, was rightly denounced as appalling messaging. But that’s only part of the story.

It’s not escaping the chores that we crave–though that would be jolly nice – but the relief and joy of outside company.

Men seem to be far more content with these reduced lives, satisfied with the occasional game of online poker or hours in front of the Test match. I live with two men, and while neither would choose to be in this situation, I’m way more bothered than they are about being shut at home.

I and many of my female friends are climbing the walls, desperate to get away from our families and hang out with some other sentient adults.

We miss a good old natter: the gossip, exchange of plans – even the slagging off of our nearest and dearest. FaceTime or Zoom calls don’t cut it. And how we miss our social life. Oh to have friends over for dinner, oh for the prospect of a real live party. Men don’t seem to be nearly as reliant on friends for emotional sustenance. Do they even need emotional sustenance?

In fact, many of my pals report their male partners are blissful in this quasi- solitary existence. Delighted that they don’t have to see anyone and perfectly happy never to go to a party again. What a ghastly prospect. But perhaps it would be different if you were locked down with George Clooney.