It’s the last working day before Christmas. No matter the workplace or my position, I’ve always claimed the right to wear a big, fluffy Santa hat and braids the last day, quietly singing along to the carols on the radio and being in a childlike Christmassey mood. Damn, I do love Christmas! ❤
Anyway, I'm amused by an add on the radio, though. Transcripts as follow (free from memory, it's still early, cut me a little slack, yes? ;))
Man speaking in a soft voice:
'My name is Thorkil. I'm a salesman. I'm married to Mette. We're good at finding time to be tender for one another.'
(To wife) Sorry!!
(To listeners) … It’s also important to do something for yourself once in a while. And that’s why you let your inner playboy out and go overboard in fireworks!
'Come down to our store and buy LOTS of fireworks at the best prices in town, and make sure you’re ready for the REAL Father's Day!'
So basically, the stereotype marriage portrayed is a cutesy man with feeeeeeeelings, a woman with a whip in her hand, and the company attempts to arise the need to buy fireworks in pussywhipped men by hinting that THIS is the time for them to stand up. To claim the right to be men, to make it their night, on their terms and that it’s done with a shitload of fireworks, no matter what wifey says. Yes, the archtypes are drawn a little more black n' white than reality, but no smoke without a fire.
I'm all for lots of fireworks (as long as someone else will light anything bigger than Jumping Jacks), but seriously? 'Come on, men, you're weak and your wives makes all the decisions – grow a pair and buy lots of fireworks this year!' It's so degrading AND spot on in a lot of marriages of people I know, that it's just hilarious and makes me chuckle when I hear it.
Stereotypes. Gotta love ’em. And my God, I’m glad that;
1) I’m not the whiney bitch who nags my man for buying too much fireworks.
2) It’s Christmas! *cue Queens’ ‘Thank God it’s Christmas’*
*whispers* … Did I mention it’s Christmas?