I came home from work yesterday to find the most amazing thing…
And my dishes were BAAAAD, y’all. I had let them get to the science project stage during the deep dark depression, and they had become my nemesis! The whole rest of the house is clean (except Petey’s Room, gimme a break), but those dishes were the hill I could not climb (almost literally). I couldn’t believe Chuckweasel would do such a nasty chore without ANY prompting — I was struck speechless for a minute!
I mean, Chuckweasel’s chores are usually outside-related chores — like, take out the trash, carry in the groceries, etc. If we had a yard, he would have to mow it, if we had a dog, he would have to pick up its poops. But dishes are INSIDE, and so under my domain… but he did it anyway, bless him!
And he did them WELL, too! Number one, he didn’t even use the dishwasher (he claims he doesn’t know how, which proves I’m not getting rid of this chore for good!), and number two, THE DISHES WERE ACTUALLY CLEAN. This is utterly shocking to me — I am EXTREMELY OCD about clean dishes, and if there’s so much as a SPECK of food or what-not left on a plate, that whole load’s getting washed again. I once had a boyfriend who I SWEAR would deliberately fuck up chores so he wouldn’t have to do them anymore — needless to say, he did the dishes exactly once.
So, let’s line up, Sister Wives… it may be time to give Chuckweasel a however-many-of-us-there-are-some… a “menage’ a us”, if you will. All you boy-types are excused… you can do more chores while we’re busy!