the sweet smell of...well, not me
I'm really sorry for all of the Jon-related posts recently but before you start whining and complaining, I'd like to publish a preemptive SHUT UP because I'M ENGAGED and the superlative magical wonder and newness of it all will only last for so long so I'M ENJOYING EVERY MINUTE OF IT while I still can.
So anyway, what I have to say about Jon today has to do with a recent ongoing discussion about household roles and responsibilities, or at least roles and responsibilities as we imagine them to be in our near future as co-habitators. In a moment of panic when I realized I will be cooking all of the meals, doing nearly all of the cleaning, and most likely managing the finances (duh...things wives have been doing since the dawn of time but apparently I'm a slow learner) I asked, "What exactly are YOU bringing to the table?" to which he responded he would take out the trash.
What, like TEN TIMES A DAY or something?
I mean, that's nice and all since it's a chore I'm happy to get rid of but in the grand scheme of things, taking out the garbage hardly seems like enough to balance out my household load.
So we discussed a few options and Jon managing the vacuuming and bathroom cleaning duties is now on the table. I feel the bathroom cleaning portion is particularly fitting since he uses the toilet EVERY. TEN. MINUTES. But the frequency of his trips to the loo is a topic for another post entirely. Another very long, very wordy, very descriptive post about the very core of his being. His very essence. Poop.
Okay, well oddly enough, that's an excellent segue to my point. After dropping the subject for awhile (and intermittently enjoying a leisurely dinner that involved much cheese and a few beans, if you know what I mean) Jon gazed longingly into my eyes, squinched up his nose and said, "I know what I bring to the table. Odorless gas. And the strength to endure your stenches."
Thus concludeth Household Chore Debate #1. We are SO totally even.
Posted by Poka Bean at 1:50 PM
2 Comments
You know what Bean? Odorless gas (can such a miracle truly be?) is gonna be the gift within the gift from God that keeps on giving throughout your many years of marriage. If I had a nickel for every time I prayed in vain for just such a gift to be bestowed upon my husband--or more accurately, on me--I would be a rich, rich gal. And I suggest installing a rule that has proven good and profitable throughout my family's generations of wives and has been passed down with great succes to me: Whoever doesn't cook gets clean up duty, and when PMS festivities begin, it's every man for himself...and every man would do well to do chores with one hand and feed you chocolate with the other.
If you can get him to vacuum, clean the bathrooms, remove all refuse, and odorlessly pass gas... that's a pretty sweet deal. But, lets be honest, passing ordorless gas is not really a chore -- that's like saying that you bring the breasts to the relationship. While he may be thrilled with it, it hardly sets you free from the bondage of Cascade and Soft Scrub.
Here's the thing -- if you reject his non-smelly gasiness as a bargaining chip, it's not like he can make it smelly in an act of revenge. It's a win-win for you.
I completely agree with Hoku's suggestion of he/she who doesn't cook the meal, cleans up after the meal -- that's just straight genius. I would cook every night if that were the case. I think that girl is the next Dr. Laura Schlessinger with all this marital advise.
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