Literally. I mean that literally. Rather than sitting here writing, I should be picking up, tossing out, throwing in the laundry…you get the idea. I was house sitting for six weeks, and came home only periodically. When I did, it was generally to dump something into one room or the other, and leave.
Me and Walter
I didn’t plan to do things that way. But first my computer crashed, and all that equipment is sitting in a pile in the corner, along with the box the new laptop came in (and the DVD player box…it’s a slim laptop with no DVD playing capabilities…grrrr). Then I learned Hancock Fabrics is going out of business, so I bought a few yards of fabric at a great discount, and that’s sitting in a couple of bags on top of the sewing machine table. Not to mention I haven’t completely unpacked from house sitting.
But this has been a good thing. I finally was able to get my tooth fixed properly, and when my computer crashed I could afford a new laptop. Now I’ve got a small savings account toward all the things I need to get in the near future and any kitty-cat emergencies. It’s a lot easier to save when you’ve got some savings started.
Life is good right now. Yes, there are some question marks. But I have my friends, my cats and hope, and that’s enough.
Okay, in my place I use a Swiffer. As long as you contribute to the household chores, broom, Swiffer, it doesn’t matter. (I take that back…use the Swiffer. It gets up more dirt. You should know that.)
Turns out women are making great strides in the workplace…but not at home. They still do the majority of the housework, despite working just as many hours, with just as great a commute, as their male counterparts.
Sexiest man alive, according to my friends, is the man who does the laundry.
What makes it worse, to me, is that men actually gain self-esteem when they help out at home. Guess why. Because they see themselves as good guys, they kind who help out their women. Not entirely sure I’m fond of that reasoning, but for the moment, I’ll go with it, if it helps turn the tide. Sometimes you have to use what’s working against you to get things to work for you.
My married friends tell me their husbands are never sexier than when they’re doing the dishes. Unless it’s when they’re doing the laundry.
If it’s so easy to make their wives happy, why don’t the men do it more often?
Well, part of the problem is, they believe they are doing just as much as their wives. Yet study after study shows it simply isn’t true.
Another problem? Old attitudes die hard, and I suppose sports programming gets in the way, too. Sometimes the women are at fault, because the men say, “I’ll do it after…” and their wives get tired of waiting. I say, wait it out.
Especially if it’s laundry. Let him wash his own darn underwear. Oh wait, I see the flaw(s) in my thinking…
I don’t know the answer to this problem. Either the man gets it or he doesn’t, it seems, and yet despite my light tone in this piece it is a serious problem. Women are tired and depressed, and getting some help with housework actually would make a difference.
Changes need to be made. It’s as simple as choosing to make a decision that will make your spouse happier, healthier and more relaxed. And it isn’t that difficult to do a load of laundry or three, but when it comes on top of a day at work, a nightmare commute, getting dinner on the table…and off…not to mention caring for the the kids, it can push you over the edge.
Yeah, the Swiffer’s better.
I’m not saying all men do nothing. I’m sure most contribute to the household in some way. But by and large, the burden still falls on the women.
Take an honest assessment. Don’t look at how much you’re contributing, look at the other person. If their hours start to tally faster than your minutes, do something about it.
Like pick up a broom, er, Swiffer. Those things aren’t just for sweeping, they work for mopping, too.
My World With Words 
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