Man Chores
Since the beginning of time and for many generations women have worked in the house and men worked outside. Admittedly, the lines have gotten a little fuzzed up by now because so many women work outside of their home and we have finally become enlightened enough to know that a man is also capable, but maybe not willing, of running a washing machine.
I, for instance, always take out the trash and recycling and for many years mowed the lawn because I loved it. I do have my limits though and it has to do with multi-legged creatures with antennas and beady-eyed rodents.
I keep the dogs' kibble in the garage in a plastic trash can with a lid. Each morning as I scoop out the kibble I invariably spill a piece or two. My garage can fast become mice heaven so a trap remains set right next to the dog food and earlier this year we had company visit us for several nights. Apparently, before we captured all our visitors one or more found my kitchen pantry. I didn't notice the evidence right away but when I did a major cleaning and tossing out of food was undertaken. I probably tossed out more than was necessary but I was bothered by the vision of little feet scurrying around my bags of food.
It is Jeff's responsibility to set the traps as well as empty them when needed. My job is to sound the alarm "MOUSE" and he then springs into action. Same with a bug - doesn't matter what size - it's Jeff's job to do the deed. I am merely an alarmist!
If I am alone and have to tend to a bug by myself, I use an entire roll of paper towels (not really but close). Bugs creep me out for no reason that I can think of but they do.
Digital clocks is also a man chore. While Jeff was away last week we lost power for a nanosecond but it was enough to throw all the digital clocks into a frenzy. I spent the remainder of the week in a house full of blinking red clocks. Don't ask me why I can't set a digital clock - I just can't seem to master it. Obviously, on time change weekends Jeff is very busy running around the house setting clocks, sometimes the night before.
Untying knots. I am forever getting the laces of my tennis shoes in a knot. I did it again this morning and it was a doozy. Jeff had to use his pocket knife to untangle the lace. I am not a good knot undoer but I wasn't a very good girl scout either so maybe that's where the problem stems from.
So let's recap. I can't speak for all houses, but in mine, Jeff's clearly defined chores, which will never change, is bugs, rodents, digital clocks and knots! My involvement is limited to "announcing"!
Happy Saturday.
P
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