A few nights ago, Brad and I were having a discussion about what each of us brings to our marriage. Naturally, I bring the gift of delicious foods. Whether in the form of from-scratch pasta sauce or some chocolate-dipped dessert concoction, my meals are almost always can't miss.
Brad pointed out that he does the laundry. (I sometimes start the washer, but never remember to put it in the dryer. And if by chance I get the clothes in the dryer, they stay there until I realize I'm out of undies.)
He also does the dishes. (I tend to run a fair amount of water into a dish once I place it in the sink.)
He also dusts. (I gave up long ago after hearing, 'You're doing it wrong.' no less than one million times)
Brad also takes it upon himself to sweep and mop the great room floor (Again, I do it 'wrong.')
I like to pledge the table. I also tend to pay the bills. This does not mean Brad doesn't, I just usually do it first. And, I am organized. To a ridiculous level. So while he is busy scrubbing the shower and windexing the windows, I am sorting, stacking, filing and putting things where they belong.
This imbalance in chores came about while I was working on my MBA. I would work all day, sometimes in the evenings, and at night, I was either in class or studying for the next nights class. I was never home. Brad HAD to do the cleaning. I would rush in and whip up dinner, we would eat and crash. Repeat the next day.
But, I finished school in 2006. And somehow, it just stayed that way.
So as we were talking, Brad realized he was getting the shaft. And demanded it be fixed. Faced with a lifetime of dusting, polishing and dishwashing scared me.
It was time to pull out the big guns.
"Well," I began, hands triumphantly placed on hips, "I may be passive about my cleaning habits, but there's something else I'm passive with too."
Intrigued, he looked at me, "And what would that be?"
Smugly I reply, "My TV watching. I don't make you watch girly movies or Sex and the City or any other girly show, and I can't even name any more because I don't know what they are!"
See, if there's one thing you haven't figured out about my husband is that the TV is his life. A news story reported that the average American watches 31 hours of TV a week. Brad declared he is pulling up that average.
He paused for a second, thinking, trying to make what I just said not nearly as awesome as he knows it is. "Dammit, you're right!"
And just like that. No more dusting for Kelli.