Whenever I get overwhelmed with life I become convinced that if Jeff would do more household chores my life would be all better. I think it's something to do with the Five Languages of Love or something, but that was about the only decent thing I got from that particular therapist so who knows.
Last night I was SURE that if Jeff did more dishes it would all be okay--all of it! And he's all, okay, I'll do the dishes, crazy lady. Love you. And I'm all, my husband is SO KIND. I lurve him. But then he gets all worried that I'm RUNNING things or that he has overpromised--wouldn't you? Agreeing to the demands of a crazy lady? So he's all, but here's where I draw the line. Are you ready, crazy lady? And I'm all, what?
And he's all, I won't--I can't--wipe the counters when I'm done. It reminds me too much of my sainted mother who wiped the counters WAY TOO MUCH and if I wipe the counters once in my life it will be giving in to her way of cleaning. He continues all, and by the way, Nora, remember how you used to be a skanker who never cleaned her counter? THAT is why I married you, NORA. You have CHANGED.
And I'm all--no! I will not agree! Crazy man! You DID marry a skanker! Look at the rest of our house! I'm still a slob! Just like the slob you married! But the counters! They hold my baby's food and I need them clean. Remember when you LOVED me? Remember THAT?
And then we looked at each other and giggled. And he wore his new waffle shirt that I think is hot and all was well.
And I'm telling you this because he took this story to his den of male coworkers and they all had a good manly chuckle over it over pizza with several kinds of meat on it. They traded stories of their spousal cleaning habits. And I'm pretty sure that when I say spousal cleaning habits I mean crazy crazy. I'm like Nora, Jeff, and my wife is like you.
So ha! I'm posting it on the internet, since I didn't have any pizza today.
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6 comments:
That shows you why I can't be in a relationship, because I would nag and not let him go out for pizza with the guys or love him in that waffle shirt, which goes to show you that I am not good wife material and that I do better wiping my own counters or not, if I feel like it. See, you get wiser as you get older.
When Mr. G. and I were first married, he shared much of the same philsophical logic as Jeff. Ten years into the marriage, I began to see all his many reasons why he did not wipe counters or clean tubs for what they were: a big fat smoke screen. That was the day the kitchen became his domain.
I still do most of the chores but I had one small victory.
my husband thinks he is a way better cleaner then he is. fifteen years and i've given up on the whole thing...
I've (almost) made peace with the the fact that by making my family contribute to housecleaning I only have to clean up after their job a little--which is better than doing the whole thing myself.
My husb and yours must share related DNA. Mine won't wipe stove tops or table tops. Crumbs must represent the last stand of manhood.
I think I live in your head. Or wait, I meant to say, I'm glad I don't live in your head (but apparently I do, I'm just not as good as listening to my inner voices as you).
I'm signing off before this becomes the next Charlie Kauffman movie.
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