Most of the time, men seem to get the big fat end of the wedge.

Us women give birth;  remove our body hair and very often do the lion’s share of household chores and child rearing. (Just a few of the injustices we face on a daily basis.)

The only thing I don’t envy the boys for is the whole hunter gatherer chase when it comes to dating and wedding proposals. Mr F spent an inordinate time fretting over how to propose to me. In the end he plumped for a romantic trip to the South of France (big tick); a boutique hotel (another tick); and a proposal over a gourmet dinner (yet another tick).

The biggest tick was that he was thoughtful enough know that I’m a magazine geek. Any opportunity to buy a glossy and I’m there. Getting engaged presented the chance to cruise a wholly unexplored shelf in the newsagents. My boyfriend (as he was) had been thoughtful enough to bring two wedding magazines away with him so I could start flicking immediately.

This week, I was touched by the proposal of marriage received one of my lovely colleagues, Rosa Doherty.

Rosa’s (now) fiance knew the way to her heart was via her stomach. He (not a cook) had taken the time not only to carve the words ‘Say Yes’ out of rye bread (she’s gluten free) but to slather them with her favourite smashed avo and a range of other toppings. A ring sat next to his efforts. 

Said Rosa: “he has secured his placed in my heart forever and demonstrated plainly that he is willing to honour one (potentially the most important) of the woman’s three basic rights in marriage: to feed me. Maybe I’m biased but there is no better way to say anything important than with food!”

The lady said ‘yes’ but I’m not sure whether she ate his words.