Those of you who have followed my blog (bless you!) or are related by friendship or DNA know that Kenny and I have a marital chore system that basically puts him in charge of all things outside the house (yard work, home repairs, car maintenance), and relegates me to all thing inside the house (laundry, cleaning, household errands). This system work beautifully about 9 months out of the year, splitting the chore list quite evenly and fairly down the middle.
The winter months, however, are too cold and crappy for anyone to spend much time outside, so Kenny hits the couch somewhere around mid-December and doesn’t get up again until mid-March. I don’t like to whine (okay, I do, so I’m going to), but if there’s nothing to do outside, maybe a little help inside wouldn’t be out of the question?? There’s a huge difference between leaving your dirty dishes in the sink when you’re dashing outside to repair a leaky rain gutter, and leaving your dirty dishes in the sink because Bonanza starts in 3 minutes and you need to get comfy before Little Joe’s horse falls down the well.
In one particularly non-stellar moment, I went on a 3-day business trip during the winter and returned home to find the breakfast dishes from my breakfast 3 days prior still in the sink (because the “dishwasher was full.” SERIOUSLY??), now-moldy wet clothes still in the washing machine (“You’re so picky about the dryer settings, I didn’t want to chance it.” They were towels), and the master bathroom looking like a busload of Beta Theta Pi’s had stopped off for a quick pee. Tired and red-eyed from a 6-hour, white-knuckle drive over icy mountain roads and staring at an hour of cleaning before blissful bedtime, I snapped.
“In my next life, God,” I shouted, “keep the pony, the thin thighs, and the winning lottery ticket! I JUST WANT A WEINIE. APPARENTLY IT COMES WITH LIVE-IN MAID SERVICE!!” I don’t know how God felt, but poor Kenny was horrified. “Oh, don’t look at me that way,” I barked. “You thought the garbage was going to walk itself out to the garage before I got home??” Admittedly not my best presentation, but stepping OVER 3-day old beer cans instead of picking them up while on your way to the kitchen to get another beer tends to bring out my cranky monkey.
A few days went by and things (yeah, me) settled down to their familiar routines. Then I came home from work last night, and Kenny had cleared out a space in the garage for my little car, out of the rain (yay!). When I got into the house, he had dinner ready, the kitchen was spotless, and the wine was poured. Scented candles were burning, the laundry was folded, and the dishwasher was fixed (don’t ask…) Wow! A friend stopped by and laughed, “Gee, maybe he’s having an affair!””WHO CARES??,” I sighed happily. “Life is sweet!!”