Housework

Domestic duties are not my favorite thing.  I try to find joy in all my activities, but often, my biggest joy comes in finding someone else to do the dirty work.  I don’t always succeed.

Kory has come a long way and is now good at keeping the kitchen clean.  When we were first married, I asked if he would please clean up the dishes after I’d made dinner.  His response was, “You made the mess - you clean it up.”  That certainly wasn’t what I expected to hear.

Our son, Kaleb, has been doing his own laundry since he was four.  His list of daily chores is extensive.  I prepare most of our meals, but Kaleb cooks occasionally – a task he thankfully loves. 

In my younger days, I had a boyfriend that wanted to marry me.  The only reason I wouldn’t marry him was because he was a slob and he had no desire to change.  When his apartment got messy, he called his mom, and she drove over to clean it up.  She lived ten hours away.  I determined to never marry anyone who couldn’t carry their own weight cleaning up life’s daily messes. 

I’ve told Kaleb that one day he might be in competition for a woman, and if she had to choose based on all things being equal - she’d probably pick the guy that knows how to cook and clean, so he better learn.

When I was a kid, my brothers went outside to play, while my sisters and I stayed inside and cleaned – which included cleaning up our brother’s room.  Cleaning was thought to be “women’s work” and we were being trained for a life of service. Thankfully those days are long gone - at least in our household, anyway.

A girlfriend of mine, who is now an attorney, grew up with a mother that refused to teach her how to cook, because, she feared, if her daughter knew how, she’d spend too much time being domestic and would have no time left for intellectual pursuits.  To this day, my friend can barely boil water, but she manages life just fine.

An older friend of ours grew up on a farm, and he said that no male in his household ever learned how to milk the cow because if they did, they would never get a day of rest.  Since the cow needed to be milked twice daily, it was designated as women’s work.  The women had to make food on Sundays anyway, so it seemed logical to the men to sit down and relax, while the women carried on with their chores.  His mother even gave birth one morning, and in the afternoon was out milking the cow.

I heard an interesting definition once that went like this: “Change only occurs when the current pain one experiences, exceeds the anticipated pain of change.”  It’s a true definition, as my husband can attest, as that’s how he ended up being so helpful in the kitchen.