Opinion Well, love, what do you think?" she asked."Sounds good to me, but what about the youngsters?" I replied."Oh, they would come along, too.""And your mother?""The wee break would do her the world of good.", wirtes David Adams
We were discussing the idea of spending the Twelfth holiday period in Fermanagh and the final decision, or so it might have seemed, rested with me.
Except, with the children starting to pack bags and discuss sleeping arrangements as we spoke, it was difficult to imagine there was much of a decision left to make. My wife, thoughtful as ever, was trying to create an illusion of me having some real say in the matter.
Sure enough, within 10 minutes of our conversation, it emerged that the holiday home had already been booked, deposit paid and, what's more, my niece, her husband and their children booked in to a cottage next door.
Once again, and increasingly in recent years, I found myself near the tail-end of the family decision-making process. At one time I was the undisputed head of the household, the numero uno, the alpha male: nothing was decided without a substantial input from me. Not any longer.
Nowadays, at least on matters of minor and medium import, I am merely consulted. And even then, consulted in much the same way a government might consult the electorate - that is, just before it forges ahead with its plans.
There's no denying it, I've slipped down the family pecking order.
A few months back my wife (and her mother, as it later turned out) decided that it was time we had oil-fired central heating installed. To be fair, I remember it being mentioned in passing and making some vaguely positive, but what I understood to be non-committal, noises.
However, within a matter of days of that brief interchange, there I was stationed at the front window waiting for the "heating men" to arrive.
The "children" (respectively, 16, 19 and 22 on his next birthday) had all thought it was a great idea. And that, regardless of any misgivings I may have had, was the clincher. Dad, it was accurately predicted, would meekly go along with the majority view.
Much the same thing happened with the new satellite television system. One minute I'm listening to my daughter arguing its merits, thinking: "With that sales pitch she could have a real future in second-hand car sales." The next, I'm exploring 200 extra TV channels.
As a red-blooded male, maybe I should be outraged at this gradual undermining of my position; or even make some effort to reclaim my previous status. But no, I'm not going to be doing either. For the truth is, I've never been more contented.
The real farce, while it lasted, was the idea that I was anything other than the lead support act within our family.
In common with most other families, I suppose, throughout our marriage my wife has quietly got on with raising the children, cleaning the home, cooking meals, ensuring bills were paid, arranging Christmases, doing the shopping and making sure a whole host of other vital tasks were taken care of. From the time our youngest child started school, she has held down a part-time job as well.
And, as though that weren't enough, during all of those years she has always supported me and been thoughtful enough to pander to my male ego by acting as though I was the linchpin of the family.
With all the skills of a trained diplomat, she has steered each of the youngsters, and me, through their awkward rebellious phase. Gently pointing out, when necessary, that the child in question had become a young adult and that it was time we loosened the parental reins a bit.
For my part, I supported her throughout, made "helpful" suggestions, was a loving husband and father and, I hope, a positive male role model for the children.
I suppose it was that same diplomatic skill that helped her judge to perfection when it was time to begin dropping the pretence; that helped her decide I was ready to take my proper place within the family.
And what a relief it was when she did.
The pressure of trying to play the part of undisputed head of the household, numero uno, alpha male, over so many years, was tremendous. Men just aren't cut out for that kind of leadership - we can only concentrate on one worry at a time.
And family life is a myriad of concerns. When we're under pressure, everything except the immediate problem goes to the wall. Women, on the other hand, can be weighed down with worries but still take time to make sure that every other requirement is taken care of.
Far from being outraged by my slightly reduced status, I feel liberated.We are now a family of five equals with, in true communist fashion, two of us being a little more equal than the rest. And, if truth be known, one slightly more equal than that again.