Multitasking is for iPhones and not human beings – so stop trying
Women who think leaving men to-do lists will get them to multitask don't know the slightest thing about men
THE headmistress of a school I’ve never heard of announced this week that when women go away, they treat their husbands like children, leaving lists explaining where the fridge is and what the children need for school.
She reckons that if women stopped doing this and treated men like adults, we would manage perfectly well.
Wrong. The problem is that most men, and I include myself in this, simply cannot concentrate on two things at once. Multitasking is for iPhones, not human beings.
Many years ago, my wife was cooking supper with a child in one arm, a wooden spoon in the other and a phone tucked under her ear.
“Hang on,” she said to the caller, before turning to me and saying: “What are we doing on Tuesday?”
I’m ashamed to admit that I replied rather crossly: “I don’t know. I’m wiring a plug.”
But that’s the thing. When I’m wiring a plug, I’m wiring a plug. The job occupies all of my brain capacity and there’s none left over for diary planning or anything else for that matter.
One of my children could have run into the kitchen on fire and I’d have said: “Just wait until I’ve got this neutral wire screwed down properly and then I’ll put you out.”
It’s not just me, either. A friend broke her arm recently and asked her husband if he would do the school run. He set off happily with the children but moments later came back through the front door saying: “Er, where do they go to school?”
I can hold important things in my head. I can name the president of Syria and the name of that nerve agent used in Salisbury. I can also list all of the James Bond films in order. But the names of my friends’ children? What I’m doing tomorrow evening? Nope. Not a clue.
I remember well the first time I was left alone with my daughter. Precise instructions were left on how I should change her nappy but when the time came, it was all far too difficult.
And the smell. Jesus. I had to put on a snorkel and wrap my nose in a perfumed scarf. And even that didn’t work. So I took the child round to my sister’s and asked her to do it.
It’s the same story with the washing machine. I look at the label in the clothes and at the hieroglyphics on the tub and I just can’t concentrate because my head is full of things I need to do at work.
This is why I look like Winnie the Pooh every time I wear a jumper I’ve washed.
Then there’s the dishwasher. I have asked maybe a hundred times where the tablet goes and I’ve stood there forcing myself to listen to the answer.
But it’s no good. After I’m told to open the door, I drift off and start thinking about Lamborghinis.
Luckily, these days I have a cleaning lady, so I don’t have to worry about what goes where and what’s past its sell-by date in the fridge.
Her name? No idea, I’m afraid.
I'm cup for it, Elle
ELLE MacPHERSON announced this week that she likes to start the day with a cup of warm water into which she squeezes a bit of lemon juice.
If she’s feeling in need of a boost, she says she will also add a pinch of cayenne pepper.
Ridiculous, I thought. I like to start my day with five cups of coffee, black pudding, scrambled eggs, sausage, bacon and lashings of HP sauce.
But then I looked at the picture of Elle and then I looked at a reflection of myself in the mirror. And I decided that she may have a point.
So I left the sausages in the fridge. Well, one of them.
Rhinos plan is a no-no
I WAS a bit puzzled this week when experts said the future of the northern white rhino was in jeopardy after the last male had to be put down.
I’m no biologist, I admit, but I reckoned that without a male, the two surviving females wouldn’t have much chance of producing a baby. It seems, however, that before he died, vets removed some of the old male’s sperm, which they hope will keep the species from extinction.
The only trouble with this plan is the surviving females are his daughter and granddaughter.
So I’m not sure that any offspring they produce will be entirely right in the head.
Tech it slowly
A DRIVERLESS car ran over and killed a pedestrian this week while being tested in America.
My thoughts are with the family of the deceased.
And I can only hope that as a result of the crash, the world’s boffins stop trying to run before they can walk.
Start by building a robot that can make tea or boil an egg. THEN move on to a robot which can negotiate a city ring road at rush hour.
Concordes for the people, not Mars Jets for millionaires
FOR the past few years, we’ve heard lots of exciting stories about the world’s billionaires building spacecraft that can fly cars to Mars then take tourists into orbit.
And all the while, we’ve plodded through the airport and climbed on board a machine that lumbers along at the same speed it was doing 50 years ago.
I don’t particularly want to go to Mars or the moon.
And while I’d quite like to go into space, I’d far rather someone somewhere made an earth plane that could get me to New York in three hours.
Like we could do in the olden days when we had Concorde. Which is why I was delighted to read this week that an American company is working on a 55-seater commercial jet that can do 1,687mph.
They reckon it’s only five years from being a production reality.
My fingers are crossed.
Tweaks in roundabouts
AN artist who’s been touring the roundabouts of Oxfordshire adding convincing-looking additions to road signs has angered the local mayor.
She says that tourists may spend hours searching for “Middle-earth” or “Gotham City”.
I’m not sure this is likely. I’m also not sure they will ever catch the thief, as officials say they won’t start looking for him “until the weather improves”.
You never heard Batman say that, did you?
“I shall go out and look for the Joker when it stops raining.”
Crushed to see Ferr fly
LIKE every right-thinking taxpayer, I was horrified to see footage this week of West Midlands Police wantonly destroying a perfectly healthy looking Ferrari 458.
They said it was uninsured and that it was unroadworthy, having been in a serious accident in the past.
However, even if they are correct – and the owner says they aren’t – why the bloody hell crush it with a grab and then swing it around under a giant crane?
Why not take it apart carefully and sell the parts? They’d have raised thousands.
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Cheesy crime
NEW data shows that if you steal stuff worth less than £200 from a corner shop, the chances are you will not be punished.
So, you can go in there, help yourself to a bottle of Scotch and 40 fags and you won’t be troubled by Plod. They are too busy crushing Ferraris to investigate.
Interestingly, however, thieves are not doing this. Instead, the figures show the thing they steal most often is cheese.
God, we live in a weird world.