Home Insurance for Her

When one thinks of proposals that men make to women, they undoubtedly think of the big one. And in my head the typical scene plays out something like this: Ext: A sepia, soft-focus, and blustery cliff-top.English gentleman says to English gentlewoman: ‘My darling, I’ve become hysterically smitten with your presence, and thus suggest that we may be wed at the nearest available opportunity.’English gentlewoman replies: ‘Though I am a little foxed dear sir, it would seem frightfully rude for me to turn down your hand.’Embrace.And that is that. However now that me and my partner have moved in and are settling down together, I’m planning another type of proposal which, although a little less romantic, is important nonetheless. Being a valiant soul, I’m going to lay down a little idea in regards to safeguarding our possessions – with mutual equality and responsibility at its heart: ‘Babe, if I’m taking car insurance, why don’t you take home insurance?’It makes perfect sense. We will each know exactly what we’re doing, when remote controlled flying shark it needs to be done by, and neither of us will be overloaded with forms, information and companies offering, offering, and re-offering.Besides, without divulging too much personal stuff right here; the garage is my zone…the car my dominion. I purchased the decals. I attended to the hubcaps with some super-gleam and an old toothbrush. I even wind down the window every time we pull into a petrol station.Likewise, she is the keeper of our modest abode, on our little humble street with our green garden gate that eternally swings half-open and says to the world: we are a polite welcoming couple, come in for a cup of tea and a garibaldi. That expensive-looking vase we inherited air swimmers from Aunt Odalys…that’s hers. The marble-top kitchen re-fit complete with breakfast bar…that’s hers too. And the chocolate colour leather-armed 3 piece suite…I will have to be a little tactful though. I’m well aware that there is a slim possibility that this could seem like a cowardly attempt to shirk the exciting, and significant, responsibility of insurance onto some innocent and undeserving soul. Be a man! I bet they’re thinking. Accept your role as husband and protector. And I suppose they have a point.But let’s look back at our introductory cliff-top scene and acknowledge all Flying angry bird that’s wrong with it. Gone are the days of whimsical rendezvous atop windswept escarpments. Honestly, nowadays such meetings are more likely to happen at the ticket machine in a multi-storey car-park. Additionally, the submissiveness of women-kind has been all but stamped out by Lisa Simpson, smouldering bras and Dolly Parton. And finally, let’s analyse for a second, the “typical man” from circa 1874 compared to the “typical man” today. Just think of his imposing top hat, pocket-watch and pipe. I mean, am I even nearly as capable as he would’ve been?