My husband, Jeff, has an unnatural aversion to washing dishes. I get that no one likes doing dishes, at least not in my house. But Jeff is almost allergic to dish soap. The way some folks are allergic to cats. It’s like putting a dish in the dishwasher would cause facial swelling and hives.
Dishes, like brushing your teeth or putting gas in the car, is one of those things that us grownups (and some teenagers) just HAVE to do. There are about a million things I’d rather do, but everyday I do dishes…lots and lots of dishes. Everyday Jeff manages to ignore dishes. I suppose he is protecting himself from that allergic reaction.
As you know, since I have complained relentlessly for the past few days, I have had a terrible cold. So my dish washing services have been on hold. With the exception of my chicken soup cooking yesterday, I have not spent much time in the kitchen over the past few days. I came downstairs this morning to find every glass that we own, full to various levels, with liquids in varying degrees of souring. There were no teaspoons in the silverware drawer and the sink was over flowing with plates caked full of ketchup and other unrecognizable ooze.
When I asked Jeff about it, he was surprised. “What do you mean? The kitchen is fine.” It’s like he can’t even see the gnats that are circling around the stockpot crusted with yesterday’s soup remnants. “I don’t have the same standards as you. Here’s a teaspoon, you can just rinse it off if you need it.” If it wouldn’t have taken me 20 minutes to free the kitchen faucet from it’s cocoon of moldy dishes, that would have been a brilliant idea.
In Jeff’s defense, due to my cold, he has stepped up and been great in hundreds of ways. He has driven kids to school, made countless grocery store runs to keep me stocked with Gingerale and crackers, he even attended, if only for a few minutes, a Girl Scout meeting. He has done softball chauffeur duty, cooked dinners AND spent his day off today driving kids to school and extracurriculars so I didn’t have to. He is an amazing husband and I love him dearly. He just won’t do any $%@#$ dishes.
I am not mad about his dishwashing aversion anymore…well, not really mad. After 17 years of marriage, I finally am starting to accept it….well, sort of.
After all, there’s lots I won’t do either. For example, I don’t change light bulbs, that’s Jeff’s job. Nor do I tuck the kids into bed most nights, Jeff’s job. Small repair jobs around the house, Jeff’s job. Anything found dead and mangled in the back yard (thank you Bibble the feral cat), also Jeff’s job. If it ever comes to it, he’ll have to butcher the chickens because there is no way I will ever, ever do that. And to be honest, I don’t put out as much as I used to because I am $%@#$ tired from doing all the damn dishes.
So I guess, it’s a fair trade. We both do different things around the house. Some of us may do a little more than others but whose counting? Okay, I may be counting a little but Jeff is a great husband and wonderful father….and he’s pretty cute too. So it doesn’t matter to me if he chooses not to do dishes. I just think he would be a much more satisfied and fulfilled man if he did $%@#$ dishes once in a while.
PS W8Lo Challenge. This mornings trip to the scale was disappointing. I did not think I ate that much yesterday but I did have some ice cream which gave me a horrendous belly ache so it wasn’t even worth it. Anyhoo…the scale went no where this morning. Jeff took me out for an airing today so I walked my 2.6 mile route which was good. Also got a lot of exercise digging out the kitchen from under all those dishes so I am hoping to see some scale movement tomorrow morning. Fingers crossed.