Check this short column, please

Can you please check this short column on male/female relationships that I translated? It is is supposed to be funny, and I hope you'll enjoy it. I know I have problems with articles, and maybe even with tenses sometimes. If you can give me some better idea to make it more funny, please do so!

A sketch/ A little portrait of a conservative man



‘’If my wife told me to dust, I would throw the cleaning rag through the window’’, certain D.P. boasted, the man whose boys I know inside out and whose wife I met once in my lifetime, by chance.



Pure and Mutated Types



Maybe you have him in your house deliberately. Maybe you live with him, and you do not know it. Pure conservatives, old-fashioned ones, are convinced that women’s place is kitchen, and theirs is pub. Fast driving, mistresses, gold watch and similar banalities are part of their folclore, but they hate to imagine their wife in a similar situation (with a lover, in a fast car, with little gold watch on her wrist). Household is to him a complete taboo; he would rather be castrated than wash the dishes. ‘’If my wife told me to dust, I would throw the cleaning rag through the window,’’ certain D.P. (1952) boasted, the man whose boys I know inside out and whose wife I met once in my lifetime, by chance. Through mutation of his gene we get a model of a moderate conservative, more or less adapted to the demands of the contemporary woman, emphasis given to ‘’less’’. Mutated conservative (now in his thirties or forties) allegedly does not have anything against taking over household chores, taking care of the children, even of heating up the lunch, but only because he is afraid of your nerves. As soon as your hands start shaking, he picks up a small broom, which the pure type would not dream of doing/ which the pure type would not do in his wildest dreams. In accordance with this, my husband is a Mutated Type. He lost the relationship with his grand-grandfather base, so he is OK with the household. But, since we divided the chores, we can breed giraffes in our house. Guests leave, and the bones that they had gnawed are left on the stove for days. When my husband does the ironing, a tiny vein pops on his forehead. Not that he is complaining, far away from that. But something is telling me that his next wife, no matter what she would be like, will iron her head off/flat out/in full swing. Where did I in the first place get this naively optimistic theory that men are physically more fit to do the household chores? He was young and crazy and he trusted me, and now he knows that I am cunning and more verbal than a devil’s advocate. If somebody is to be blamed for the mess, it is me. Isn’t it natural for a woman to walk in little slippers around the house and to wipe/go over glass surfaces with electrified cleaning rag? And isn’t it unnatural for her to like fast driving and gold watches? This is not a woman anymore, thinks the Mutated Type, whose consciousness/mind is still marked by the traces of the Pure.