Every time we go away as a family the packing is left up to me. And that’s just fine. When I pack the bags, I know the kids will have their pj’s, warm clothes and a change of undies every day;I know my husband will have a clean shirt to wear if we go out for dinner, and his favourite form of posterior covering (ie, shorts) should we need to go out in public. They will all have access to sufficient amounts of climate-suitable clothing that will not come out of the suitcase looking like it’s been compacted into the smallest form possible via the “scrunch method”, because I am acutely aware of every item of my family members clothing that can withstand the fine art of packing and can execute said packing perfectly.

But on our most recent family holiday, I encountered some problems.Problems which only highlighted the extreme differences in suitcase-filling abilities and car loading techniques between myself and my husband.

Firstly, it seems men are not fussed about packing, but extremely fussy about what is packed for them. Every time I do pack for my dear husband, he suddenly doesn’t appreciate the clothing selections I have painstakingly made.

‘Why’d you pack these, I don’t want to wear these, I want to wear the blue ones’

If my husband packed his own bag, there would be two t-shirts, one pair of shorts and a toothbrush. Men pack light. I have a friend whose father is on the verge of divorce from his wife every time they go on holidays as, after 32 years of marriage, she has finally allowed him to pack his own suitcase on the last 2 occasions they have travelled. He took one pair of pants, a day shirt, a dinner shirt, a pair of socks and one pair of jocks…..for 3 weeks on a luxury cruise!!!! His reasoning was that he could wash as he wore, combining his daily shower with a quickie laundry job, but did not factor in what he may need to wear as his only pair of jocks and pants were drying in an air conditioned cruise-liner cabin! Needless to say, copious amounts of their holiday budget were hastily spent on clothing at each port!

Men don’t pack for emergency situations. Should the situation arise where they were required to, perhaps, attend a semi-fancy dinner which required more than a pair of $2 thongs and a day-worn T-shirt, or God forbid, they be wearing their only pair of packed shorts when they were inadvertently damaged by some rambunctious holiday activity, they would, quite literally, be buggered. But never admit that it was due to a complete lack of packing prowess!

Men don’t pack snacks for the kids. Or arrange the luggage in the car in a kid-friendly manner. Or basically seem to think of the smaller people at anytime in their preparation for imminent travel.

On our last trip, the kids entertainment bag (packed efficiently by myself, of course) which thoughtfully include books, computer games and easy eaten snack food that won’t stain too badly, always ends up packed underneath the suitcases in the boot, totally inaccessible from inside the car! And once that speed limit has been hit, don’t even contemplate stopping to retrieve any such child or wife related items from the tetris-like stack that they have so artfully constructed.

If I were braver than I am I would leave the task of packing to hubby, but honestly, the thought of that is like the thought of speaking in public or one of those “trust fall” exercises and I am just not that brave.