Jeff and I have something of a situation around the kitchen (how awesome is the word situation, by the way? I love it.). It's really unnecessarily complicated, but there you have it.
See, I refuse to empty the dishwasher. I refuse. It's the only way I can avoid feeling like a martyr. I can wash dishes, and actually find it kind of soothing. But to load and unload the dishwasher all day, I feel like a scullery maid. If he does some part of it then I feel like I have a PARTNER. Codependent! So at some point I just refused to do the emptying part, and much to my surprise, it worked, and Jeff always empties it.
But then, see, I also refuse to put plastic in the dishwasher. Which means we always have a pile of plastic stuff drying in the strainer beside the sink. Jeff does most of the dishes but has responded to my refusal to empty the dishwasher with a COPYCAT refusal to empty the sink-top strainer. A small protest because he thinks I am a little crazy with my no-plastic-in-dishwasher thing. (Which he calls COMPLICATED.)
So see? Now our incentives are all messed up. I have an incentive to get as much stuff as possible into the dishwasher (not plastic!), and he has an incentive to get as much stuff as possible into the sink thingy. Ceramics and cutlery and whatnot--things that could quite easily go into the dishwasher. That Jeff, he thinks I don't see his little GAME. So every day I empty the stupid sink thingy of dishwasher-approved items. And then when I do the dishes I load it up with knives full of peanut butter and such, knowing that once it's in the dishwasher, it is OUT OF MY HANDS. That someone else is going to DEAL with it. But what I think really ends up happening is that we both do way too many dishes, we plot and scheme way too much, and it's really not that EFFICIENT.
I had a thought that this is like our health care mess, sort of, the thing with the incentives being all off and otherwise normal people acting like idiots. But oh my heavens, this is boring, and I think I'm getting sick--who gets sick in JUNE, anyway? Bah. The end.