RICK JACKSON: She still moans about how she can’t find anything

The new interchange at The Hard

Yes, it’s election day – and with that in mind and all the awful news we’ve had recently, I’m focusing on first world problems from now on.

This week I learned that in any given year, men are nagged at for the equivalent of a whole week!

Well, I’m happy to divulge a little secret us men keep from the ladies. We do it on purpose.

Yes, that’s right.

Men are generally useless and lazy around the house as it gives the ladies something to focus on.

Something to pick us up on, something to cement that notion that they are really in charge and always right.

I know my wife Sarah would become bored of our relationship if I was the perfect husband.

If I was always tidy, if I helped with the housework, if I did the ironing.

What would she have to pick me up on?

In fact I think I’m saving our relationship by giving her something to moan at me about.

Prime example. I could pick up the grass cuttings and take them to the tip, but I prefer to throw them behind the shed as I know she will moan at me about it.

If I didn’t leave the toilet seat up, she’d be continually having to lift it every time she went and I wouldn’t want that!

I decided upon this approach after tidying and sorting out our messy kitchen diner.

With two young kids, it was looking rather cluttered so I sorted everything out.

It took me all day but it looked like a showroom once I’d finished.

I was so excited to see her reaction after all my efforts.

But to this day she still moans how she can’t find anything and how she goes to make a cup of tea only to pick up a plastic beaker as I swapped the cupboard contents around.

Perfect men be warned. You are in serious risk of being dumped as you are too boring.

May I suggest you leave your pants on the staircase tonight.

She will thank you in the long run.

PS I’m now removing tongue from cheek.

WE SHOULD BE THANKFUL WE HAVE A MARVELLOUS NEW BUS STATION

It’s a shame I’ve read such negativity about the new bus station at The Hard in Portsmouth.

I think it’s marvellous. It looks good and it’s enclosed and heated.

What more do you want from a bus station?

In the winter, I’ll be making very good use of it when I’m waiting for the Gosport Ferry.

We should thank our lucky stars.

Neither Southampton or Bournemouth have bus stations and the main streets through those centres are manic and even dangerous, with competing bus companies and vehicles pounding along busy streets, dodging passengers running across the road to get to bus shelters to make their connection.

A trip to Gervis Road or St Vincent’s Walk will show you how lucky we are.

ALL I CAN SAY IS THAT FORTUNATELY I WAS WEARING MY UNDERPANTS

You’d normally associate Janet Jackson or Madonna with embarrassing wardrobe malfunctions.

But I had one of my own last weekend.

It was my sister-in-law’s eldest’s ninth birthday, so we went to the park to fly some kites and have a bit of a kickabout.

It was only when we got back that I noticed I’d torn a hole in the gusset of my linen trousers.

How awful.

But luckily no-one noticed, I thought.

It was only then both my sister-in-law and mother-in-law said they’d noticed every time I lunged for the ball, but didn’t want to say anything.

I’m pretty sure I was lunging for the ball a lot.

Oh dear.

All I can say is fortunately I was wearing underpants!

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