Sex or a 100% wool overcoat?

I was talking to i-wife the other day (I call her thus because we seem to communicate more on a virtual basis than face-to-face) and she was setting some rather clear boundaries as to what I can and most definitely cannot say on my most private public space.

Having listed many things that are clearly far from suitable viewing for the eyes of babes, she jokingly said the following: "....and don't mention our M&S sessions....!"

The comment passed me by for a few hours and then during a particularly long and tedious journey to work where my first, second and hopefully third best selling novels are currently cultivating, my over caffeinated brain started to wonder (again). Was this a slip of the tongue, or is there some deeper power at work here?

Now please, let's not start our blog relationship by you getting the wrong impression. I like a bit of S&M, but the kind with peas, where the mashed potato is buttery and a bit chunky, and the sausages have to be well cooked, even a little charred. Apart from that let's keep this strictly CBBC/Nickelodeon Jr.

So here's the question/s:

At what stage in one's life does S&M turn to M&S?

When does Marks & Spencer achieve a higher ranking in the 'things I did this week' chart, to a bit of rumpy pumpy?

Are there telltale signs that one should look out for, or are the increasingly frequent trips to McArthur Glenn on a Sunday morning the beginning of the end? Oh wait! There's an M&S there..

So, who stole the Greek Goddess that used to perch seductively on the sofa and replaced her with someone that is dressed like a guest at the Ice Hotel who decided to pop outside for a breath of fresh air? All I can see is a nose!

I have the answer and I think I may be the first person to work out why as we progress through life, M&S takes an increasing share of our children's inheritance. Let's take the Animal store - too young, BHS - too old, Hugo Boss - too damned expensive (but tempting), Primark - too damned cheap, JJB - I'm too lazy, Edinburgh Woollen Mill - I'm still breathing. So, where to shop?

As I sit at my rather radical MacBook Pro (with trendy red case) and type this, I am finding a strange comfort in the fact that I can buy a pack of five pairs of socks (with suspenders if desired), some really quite nice food and even exchange currency, all under one roof and with the approval of my parents who have shopped at M&S since I was a boy. I remember only too well being dragged into the ladies underwear department and not knowing where to look. Not much changes, except now I'm being dragged by my children and have to pay!

Anyway, I have to run as there's a sale on mens' winter coats on the first floor.

Where did it go? The first attempt...

This isn't as easy as I thought it was going to be...

So where did the weekend go? What happened to lazing in bed on a Saturday morning until it wasn't? Days when you were forced to get up to avoid dehydration or a caffeine headache, rather than being woken up because either you, or one of your offspring desperately needs to go pee..

When did ballet or horse riding have priority over the life enhancing qualities of Scrap-heap Challenge, or, and this is what caused me to start this blog - since when should a man in his prime(ish) have to negotiate being able to sit in his own adopted armchair with a cat?

I consider myself a relatively mild mannered person, however, all this nurture, develop and grow stuff we 21st century dads are supposed to embrace is starting to seriously hamper my ability to be the big alpha male that I thought genetics and a few hundred thousand years of hairy knuckled descendants were supposed to have etched in my psyche.

So, back to the weekends. Is it me, or is the 48 hours period that we cherish so much suffering from the effects of the credit-crunch, or the same product managers who slowly but surely made chocolate bars smaller?

Gone are the heady days of sleepless nights on the beer, whilst still managing to get in a rugby match, a bit of golf and a hearty meal at the local Indian emporium. In seems to be the choice of one of the above, (or a guest appearance with 10 minutes to play) so long as it doesn't involve the risk of physical injury or the loss of a good nights' sleep, as it now takes more than an acceptable level of time to recover...

I have a theory - evolution failed us!

No, really! We men were not designed for this. Don't get me wrong, I am not some kind of chauvinist, I think we should have been upgraded and had the gods of evolution done some forward planing they would have prepared us for it, but essentially they screwed up.

They let us believe that we were all macho and gave us loads of hormones that make us feel super human and caveman like, but essentially we are just confused and feeling let down. We need to get in touch with our more sensitive areas and get to grips with reality.

Take my wife for example. She's holds down a pretty cool job that demands more than 37 hours per week shall we say, takes the main carer role, tidies up after us all, runs the finances and still keeps smiling. I on the other hand have to occasionally wash the cars and mow the lawns and my life is a complete wreck!

Discuss.