Grumpy. Yeah, that’s a great description of how I feel, at 1:34 in the morning. I’m sitting here. Supposed to be finishing a 1,500-word article. Instead, I am seething over the fact that I had to do three loads of laundry today. And hubby only did one. Well, he only ever does one. (And before he rushes to the bottom of this blog post: Yes, you will fold laundry if I leave it on the bed but you did not: a) sort that laundry, b) pretreat stains on said laundry, c) hang all the laundry up to dry, which is tedious as all hell, or d) retreat the stains that didn’t get clean the first time due to the use of environmentally-conscious laundry detergent.)
I wash all my clothing. I wash the towels. I wash Big Girl’s and Little Girl’s clothing and sheets. I wash our sheets. Did I mention he only washes his laundry? Yeah, I think I did. When I complained he said he was a GREAT husband. And he does MORE than I do since he gets up EARLIER than I do to get on a train. Uhhh, this is only a new thing, but forget that. When he starts saying that, I rush to the, “Hey, I am up until all hours of the night writing a gazillion words every month. I am superwoman, darn it.” And then he gets madder. Then I tell him to get out of my office because (in martyr voice) I have to WORK.
Sigh. Such an exercise in futility. I just wanted him to hang up the wash so I could get to work. He was too busy sorting his laundry in the garage to come up and deal with the wet laundry. (He works in the city and I have a thing about him possibly catching bedbugs on the 1, 2 or 3 subway so he strips in the garage. Yeah, that’s a little nutty, I know. And yeah, that’s a pretty nice husband — someone who gets almost naked in the garage to appease his wife’s crazies.) But he is slow. Like my Big Girl is slow. He can’t multitask like I can. He does one thing. Until he’s not doing that one thing. He is, simply put, a man like so many of my friend’s husbands. So I told him to come and hang the laundry, he told me he would, but he didn’t come straight up. So I got frustrated and did it myself.
Once he put his load of laundry in, he went to bed. There’s a wash swishing around now. I can hear it since our washing machine and dryer are upstairs in their own little closet/room near the bedrooms. If you haven’t moved your washing machine close to your bedroom, I highly recommend it. Digressing, as always. What would have been a better solution? Leaving the wash where it was and hoping that he hung it up? And if he didn’t then I would have been able to complain, right? I just look at the pile of stuff that moms have to do — well, this mom:
Book Big Girl’s birthday
Send thank yous from Little Girl’s birthday
Pick up eyeglass prescription from eye doctor so I can order Big Girl’s glasses
Call school to set up meeting with superintendent
Get school supplies
Fill out school paperwork for Big Girl and Little Girl
And frankly I get overwhelmed and wonder why husbands — my husband — can’t see why I would be grumpy when he won’t run the vacuum or wash the bathroom occasionally. I love him loads and loads, but tonight, at least for a little while longer, I will be grumpy.
p.s. Written the next day: My husband was not thrilled with my recounting of last night’s events. His words: “I just don’t think what you wrote was fair. Its like FOX NEWS was hired to report on the evenings events…You write an article complaining about me not hanging laundry when I said I would hang the laundry? Maybe if you wrote an article that said, ‘My ogre of a man husband wanted to wait to get up from finishing one pile of laundry before hanging another pile,’ I’d swallow it and not say anything. But you really, really have got to be kidding me with what you wrote.”
And to that I say: Yes, my husband is an excellent husband. He loves me with all his heart. He is probably the best father I have ever seen. Ever. And yes, I did wake him up last night at 3 when I realized I could not put his wet clothes into the laundry without folding an entire load of dry clothing. And yes, he did fold said clothes — mostly his white work t-shirts. But despite the fact that he did that, and despite how much I love him, he is still a slob who does not clean the house unless I go ballistic. And then I’m instantly the nagging, evil wife who says stuff out of anger that I don’t really mean. I’m sorry, my adorable husband, if I hurt your feelings. Separately, you could try and do a load of laundry that isn’t yours occasionally.
How do you handle the separation of chores in your house. I’d love to know.