VERY little in life gives me as much satisfaction as being able to tick something off a list. I will even take things that I've already done and add them to my list, just so that I can then cross them off. I have lists in my diary. I have lists by my bed. I have a special notepad in my handbag just for lists. My day is pretty much spent creating lists and then satisfying myself that each item has been duly disposed of. The sense of achievement is astonishing. I think I know how Sir Chris H
My life, it's safe to say, is governed by them. They bring order to the general chaos that is my existence. Well, perhaps it's more accurate to say they bring the illusion of a well-regulated life. Let's face it, if you see a woman with a small penci
l and a notebook, ticking things off, you'd think that she was an in-control individual.
Of course, if she's also muttering to herself and pulling at her hair, you might think that she's a nutter and give her a wide berth. Hmmm. That maybe explains why I get so much room in shops.
Men – in their own sweet way – love lists too. Theirs are slightly more likely to be lists of top goalscorers or who had the best round of the fourball they played last month. They're also likely to have random and unrealistic items – 'Play for Scotland at Hampden by my 25th birthday'; 'get fit'; 'buy a convertible'; 'do ironing'. There is a reason why Top Trumps are still so successful – it's not just seven-year-olds with their pocket money in Woolies on a Saturday morning.
If men just stuck to our lists, their lives would be so much simpler. Just as, if they let us put their clothes out for them in the morning, they would be much better dressed. I do draw the line at actually dressing him before he heads out. Although I have been known to make Mr Turner go through a checklist before he leaves the house – it's on a blackboard by the door.
Mr Turner happened to complain one day that he couldn't possibly remember everything that I expected him to do. I went out and bought him his own special list notebook that very day. With my list, he too has order in his life. And absolutely no excuse for forgetting anything. If it's on the list – it gets done. He can feel free to add to it if he wants. But any list that he dares to draw up himself has to have 'Her List' at the top of it.
Male mates of mine often complain about their daily list. "Can't play golf today, I've got a list." "Can't meet you for a pint before the footie – got a list." It's now a completely acceptable excuse. In fact, it's so common that they are much more likely to get a sympathetic nod than a good slagging.
While it's great to get all those little jobs done, men are simple creatures and the list isn't always to my advantage. Last week I came home and the washing was still outside, soaking up as much of the monsoon as it could. "Did you not get a chance to bring the washing in?" I asked. "It wasn't on the list," was the reply.
When I came down from the ceiling, and regained the use of my vocal chords, I explained to my other half that he could – occasionally – do things that were not on the list. He seemed to take that on board.
At least, that's what I'm assuming happened when he disappeared to the boozer at lunchtime the next day.
The full article contains 630 words and appears in Scotland On Sunday newspaper.
