Welcome to the 1950's and the "June Cleaver" syndrome. No, I'm not wearing a dress and pearls while I clean the house, but I AM cleaning the kitchen.

I clean when I get mad so I don't throw things and swear a lot. I should check my facts before I malign this green and pleasant land as maybe things have gotten like this in the US of A also, BUT..I am one p****d off woman.

Let's begin at the beginning. This morning, as I was still lying in bed after being rudely awakened from a dream about chocolate donuts, the phone rang. It was the company who I shall name (as I just don't care), called Dixons, calling us to tell us that the new TV we ordered online Sunday and which the money came out of the bank for on Monday....wasn't to be delivered. Why? Because they're "out of them".

Surely they knew that before the delivery day?

But I digress. OK, fine, John talked to them and was probably too nice as he always is and told them he "wanted a TV ASAP". They promised to call him back , or "ring him back" as you so quaintly say here (told you I was mad). As he had an appointment this afternoon, and the way my luck runs, I knew they'd call/ring back when he wasn't here. I should be used to this by now as I am a second class citizen in this house, because my name isn't "MISTER" Briggs.

They dutifully called back, albeit several hours later, and of course asked for "Mr. Briggs". I told them he wasn't here, but I was MRS. Briggs and could I help them? I must also at this point tell you that it was a woman who called. She stumbled all over herself and said "hmm..ummm". I basically told her just to tell me what she wanted and she finally did. I let her go on and on and then told her that Mr. Briggs wanted the order cancelled. Would you like to hear what she then said to me??? Ah come on, all you women out there...she said "well, I'm sorry but only Mr. Briggs can cancel the order". Say WHAT? A pathetic little voice came out of me and said "but my name is on the bank account". She then said, "well you know, data protection act and all that, I have to have Mr. Briggs phone me". Why I didn't say something like "well ya know, GET A LIFE AND ALL" I do not know. I was so shocked, I said meekly.."OK" and hung up. What a well trained robot I am.

In days of yore when I got MAD, I'd cut my hair all off. Today, I vacuumed the snot out of the downstairs, washed the kitchen floor and made tea at 2:30PM. I am NOT and never have been a women's libber, and I was brought up believing that the MAN gets his food first and the MAN is more important. (That was my paternal grandmother telling me all that, and sometimes, even my mother). It was the 1950's and 60's afterall..but I'm here to tell you that I have NOT "come a long way baby" and I'm feeling rather useless at the moment. I've hidden the scissors and have opted for a nice glass of California Red instead. Think I'll go sew something or make jam or something a la June Cleaver/Betty Crocker/Susie Homemaker. (apparently that's all I'm allowed to do). God forbid I should be allowed to make a decision! British people reading this will have no clue "who" June Cleaver, Betty Crocker or Susie Homemaker are. To this I can only reply...GOOGLE IT!!! The truth is out there.