BORN too late. It's the story of my life. After a hard day at the office, all I want to do is go home to be mollycoddled by a dutiful wife.

She's not bad, my missus, but she is a modern woman. And modern women just don't behave as they should, or at least as they apparently did in the glorious 1950s.

Nowadays, women can get just a bit above their station. They don't seem to acknowledge the natural order of things: that men are the masters and a wife is a subordinate whose role is merely to ease a husband's weary, work-filled passage through life.

Oh sweet nostalgia. That's how it used to be and it has gone for ever, swept away while men had their backs turned.

I've just read the most amazing document which had me longing to be a husband in those gentle, right and proper days. It is an extract from a 1950 home economics book, entitled How To Look After Your Husband.

Get a load of this, chaps: "Have dinner ready, plan ahead even the night before, to have a delicious meal on time. This is a way of letting him know that you have been thinking about his needs. Most men are hungry when they come home and the prospects of a good warm meal are part of a warm welcome needed.

"Prepare yourself. Take 15 minutes to rest so you will be refreshed when he arrives. Touch up your make up, put a ribbon in your hair and be fresh looking. He has just been with a lot of work weary people. Be a little more interesting. His boring day may need a lift.

"Clear away the clutter, make one last trip through the main part of the house just before your husband arrives, gathering up any school books, toys etc. Then run the duster over the tables. Your husband will feel he has reached a haven of rest and order and it will give a lift too.

"Prepare the children. Take a few minutes to wash the children's hands and faces (if they are small), comb their hair, and, if necessary, change their clothes. They are his little treasures and he would like to see them playing the part.

"Minimise the noise. At the time of his arrival, eliminate all noise of washer, dryer, dishwasher or vacuum. Try to encourage the children to be quiet. Be happy to see him. Greet him with a warm smile and be glad to see him.

"Some don'ts: Don't greet him with complaints or problems. Don't complain if he is late for dinner. Count this as minor compared to what he may have gone through that day.

"Make him comfortable. Have him lean back in a comfortable chair or suggest he lie down in the bedroom. Have a cooling drink ready for him. Arrange his pillow and offer to take off his shoes. Speak to him in a low, soft voice. Allow him to relax and unwind.

"Listen to him. You may have a dozen things to tell him, but the moment of his arrival is not the time. Let him speak first.

"Make the evening his. Never complain if he does not take you out to dinner or to other places of entertainment. Instead try to understand his world and pressure, his need to be home and relaxed.

"THE GOAL: try to make your home a place of peace and order where your husband can renew himself in body and spirit."

See what we are missing, fellas? Is it like that in your castle? I'll bet.

Nowadays we have to come home and do our share of the cooking, cleaning, washing and ironing, especially if we get in before the wife.

Before we are even through the door and have the opportunity to trip over a selection of carefully-scattered toys, we are harangued with a catalogue of misbehaviour by the kids. "Now speak to them, will you?"

The bills are neatly laid out on the table where that delicious meal should be. No plumped up cushions waiting alongside a cool drink. No offer to massage furrowed temples to soothe away the cares of the day. Just a note saying "Gone to the gym" in a house where you can hear the clock ticking.

In our house, if I want a cool drink waiting for me, I have to pull out of the traffic jams on the A19, get on the mobile and beg: "Gin and tonic, with ice, on the table in ten minutes."

Oh, by the way, I won't be taking the paper home tonight. If she reads this, she'll kill me.

Updated: 09:36 Tuesday, November 04, 2003