Who works harder in your house? You? Or you? Because let's face it, without question you work the hardest.
Briefcase and I are having a little
competition war spat right now, can you tell?
After several centuries of marriage, I've come to the conclusion Briefcase has a piece of cake life while I'm no more than an unappreciated slave or, perhaps, taken for granted live-in help. I picture myself kind of like Cinderella without the pumpkin or glass slipper.
Are your eyes welling up with sympathetic tears yet? Can you hear the violins playing in the background?
In any case, I toil away at tedious chores hour after hour. My life is all about striving for a slight reduction in the overwhelming pile of perpetual laundry which grows out of our laundry room floor. Not to mention all the other crap I do to the best of my one-armed ability. And trust me, I do a lot of other crap.
In fact, just last week I had a garage full of crap, remember?
Briefcase was gone for that Home Disaster. I guess in his mind, it never happened.
Briefcase is confident I'm a slacker.
I don't know what he thinks I do all day, but it must have something to do with bon bons and big hunky men. (In reality, I'm dealing with lots of shit all day long!)
It's also his perception he's at death's door from working so hard. I concede the man works hard at his career Monday through Friday.
You know, from 8 a.m. until maybe 4 or 5 or 6 p.m.
(I can hear him swearing right now, can't you?)
The problem is, I don't get the evenings or weekends off … why should he?
Are you a honeymooner? If you are you should print out this post and re-read it when you've been married for centuries. It will mean so much more to you then.
Briefcase thinks he works the hardest because he's "got to make a presentation to the Board of Directors next week!"
OK, right there he loses and I win.
Board of Directors, Lord of Protectors … eh, who cares?
He told me this after staying in his robe until noon on Saturday. He was reading the paper, drinking coffee and eating the french toast I made him for breakfast. The french toast I started making while he was still sleeping (nevermind I never had a minute to read the newspaper).
I didn't get much sleep myself, because I married a
buzz saw snorer. No sleep makes for a cranky wife.
Let's be honest, if I could sleep in as late as Briefcase does on the weekends, stay in my robe until noon, and have someone prepare me french toast for breakfast I would really be loving life.
As Briefcase was still mulling over the paper and drinking coffee I was out the door running errands. After, of course, throwing in a load of laundry. I returned home just after 12:00 to find him still in his robe, now playing on the computer.
(Briefcase had cleaned up the dishes from his morning french toast … which has been our marital arrangement for as many centuries as we've been married. I cook; he does dishes when he's home. He's not home much during the week.)
I put in another load of laundry, and pulled out an assortment of food for the kids. Then I left again to finish up a few more errands.
My life? Is ** exciting ** !!
I returned home, changed the laundry yet again, and began chopping up vegetables and doing a lot of other prep work in our kitchen for a big family dinner we had planned.
Around 2:00 in the afternoon Briefcase went out for a run with our retrievers to get some exercise. I was still working in the kitchen.
Did I have a spare minute to get some exercise? No, I did not.
Briefcase returned from his run (hard work!) and turned on ESPN. He started yelling at the TV because apparently the Angels are not living up to their potential as a baseball team. Yelling at the TV to make the Angels improve their bullpen is, without question, hard work. I think he had to drink a beer as a result of all that yelling at the TV.
I gave the dogs more water because they drank the entire contents of their bowl after running. I went to the laundry room and started another load of laundry. It was right about then I commented, "I've got so much I need to get done in the next day or two."
Briefcase threw his hands up in the air in exasperation as if to say, "Well, get to it …! What have you been doing all day?!"
I almost lost my shit.
It was one of those marital moments.
Don't men even see what's happening around them? Or does all that sitting on the couch watching ESPN blind them to what's going on in their surroundings?
I gave Briefcase The Marital Glare which means, "If you're smart, you won't say one more word right now or my head will explode all over the room and you'll be left to clean up the mess."
Briefcase is not fond of cleaning up messes and he particularly hates it when my head explodes. He wandered outside and started watering our outdoor potted plants. It was 4:30 in the afternoon at the time and, in my opinion, a nice hour for him to start thinking about making a contribution for the day. Breathing doesn't count. (Putting your own dishes in the dishwasher doesn't count.)
Ten minutes later Briefcase wandered back in and took a shower. At 5 p.m. he announced his new glasses needed to be picked up. He left to go get them and returned in time for a cocktail just prior to dinner.
Dinner, by the way, was a feast. TR was home Saturday night but needed to leave the next day. It was an early Easter dinner for our family. I made a roast leg of lamb, a homemade mint sauce to accompany it, new potatoes, green beans in a butter lemon sauce and I concluded dinner with homemade strawberry shortcake for dessert.
After dinner I did more laundry. Oh yes, I did. I never stop doing laundry.
I suggested to Briefcase I would be happy to give a fifteen minute presentation to his Board of Directors next week. I'm quite sure I'd do well and I think The Board would really like me. How could they not? I make a mean roast lamb and I'd be happy to bring some to the meeting.< /div>
I reminded Briefcase I have a lot of corporate experience. I admit, I've been busy recovering from a car accident and doing laundry for
several years quite awhile, but I'm sure it will come right back to me.
I think that might have been when Briefcase gave me The Marital Glare.
** We did NOT have wild, passionate, sex later the same evening! **
How do you divide chores in your family? Who does the most work? Do you ever feel cheated out of "me" time? In a heterosexual marriage do you think the man or woman puts in more hours working each day?
© Twenty Four At Heart