Male Pattern Blindness

Disturbingly, you can just wake up one day and find that not only have you developed a serious illness, but that you are already so far gone, that it is unlikely that you'll ever be restored to your former awesomeness.

I recently came to from a stupor to realise I am in the latter stages of Male Pattern Blindness.

This is where you open the pantry cupboard to look for, say, the barbecue sauce, and though you stare long and intently, you see no sauce. In desperation you yell out 'babe, where's the barbecue sauce gone!? To which you get a frustrating reply like 'it's in the cupboard where it always is'. To which you patiently yet firmly respond, 'no, someone's stolen it. Where the heck is it, I need barbecue sauce'.

And then your carer wife arrives on the scene, and in one deft movement, simultaneously sighs, opens the cupboard, gets the barbecue sauce from it's usual position (where it has been using some form of temporary cloaking device), shoves it in your hand, and stomps back to her More Important Things To Do.

And there you are, left standing stunned, chilled at coming face to face with your own sorry state. M.P.B. It affects us all.