Master of my Domain

When I was a bachelor, I was the uncontested Master of my Domain.
Running my household was a cinch.
I knew where every grain of rice and every speck of dust were and it was easy for me to formulate a plan of action… if I so desired.

Then I met a woman who became my wife and everything changed.
She slyly and progressively took over all my manly duties
Out of the goodness of my heart, I allowed her to cook, do the laundry, clean the house, take the garbage out, etc.
Then before I knew it, she was presiding over my manor.

To reassure me about the purity of her intentions, she would frequently ply me with tea and piroshki and frankly I didn’t see a thing coming.
Sad to say, I became totally dependent of her good will.

Then, not too long ago, under the pretense of visiting a cousin in Washington D.C. (but most probably to discuss the Ukrainian situation with Barack) she left me alone for an entire week.

It then became horrifying clear what she had accomplished.
I couldn’t find the sugar, didn’t know how to use the oven and totally forgot how to do the laundry.
I was helpless. Gasp!

As a matter of fact, the situation got so bad that a few days after her departure I started to miss her.

Could that woman, like Catherine the Great of Russia, be planning to depose me and take over my kingdom and my blog?
I would not put it past her.

I have to stop this new Russification of Crimea. I need to reassert my manhood and my independence.
Tomorrow I’ll do the dishes, mop the floor and dust some furniture…

Thinking of it, it might be a tad too ambitious… I’ll just start with the furniture…

Alain

You will have to forgive my dithering, but everybody knows how difficult it is to quit when you are prey to a dreadful but alas pleasing addiction.
Curse that woman!