No, this is not an ad for Nike. This is the attitude the Harridan takes when “ordering
the Squeeze” to do the never ending list of requirements. And we may be four years in, but when the
order comes, Moodle jumps through those hoops of fire and starts dancing. Nothing has changed there.
The Squeeze came back from camping on Wednesday
evening. As you can imagine, he trailed
a pile of sand through my beautiful clean house; ran straight to the television
and didn’t even think about unpacking the car.
And let’s face it; I know him. I know his idea of unpacking. “drop”… “table”… “floor”… “chuck”. I knew that everything would be thrown in the
washing machine until it was bursting at the seams and incapable of washing
well. That is if he actually remembered
how to work the washing machine. So I
left for work with strict orders on “hey… the house was immaculate when you
came home. Gleaming! And it had better be that way when I walk in
the door tonight!”
Then last night, I walked in the front door and the Squeeze
was nowhere to be found. There is crap
on the table; on the benches. The
laundry floor has disappeared under a mound of washing. Tents and bags are chucked haphazardly in the
garage. There is a bag still sitting out
on the back table. Food, including
cheese, that has been in the car for over a day – now resides on my bench.
All day. He’s had all
damned day. And what has he achieved?
Well he managed to pick up the Kid and take him out for
breakfast. Then go shopping for his
school uniform (WTF? IT’s the day before
school! What about washing and ironing
it???); then go to JB HI FI, just because they could. Then off to purchase some music books,
snatching up a piano book on his way out the door so he could appease the tiger
he knew he would meet when he got home.
When I surveyed my once beautifully clean house, all I could
think about was going to boxing and how I dared not spar with him, because
quite frankly, I’d knock that damned hobbit on his arse with one good
right! And even worse, I wanted to!
We had a bit of a shouting match where in retaliation of my frosty
mood, he mentioned that when I have a day off, he doesn’t send me text
reminders to clean. I got to mention the
fact that he doesn’t have to – because I’m a clean freak and he is a lazy
dog. Then he bandied the word “orders”
at me and I totally blew a gasket.
Yes. How dare I send
an email “order” for him to put all of the crap HE has had over the last week, away. He doesn’t take orders.
My reply was: “of course you couldn’t do what I ordered you
to do! You’re too busy off doing what
the Harridan has ordered you to do! Because
she has just been far too busy on the several months holiday she has had for
her to get the kid a school uniform! Not
to mention that this way, he foots the bill.
The idiot I live with still can’t see that she is syphoning
every single thing she can… And I wonder
how I’m ever supposed to get a house when he is handing cash hand over fist because
he is told to. And do I really want to suck this up for the rest of my life..?
Honestly the house work = man equation does not compute. I hear every damn thing you say and you KNOW I am NOT a clean freak. But it is bloody exhausting to try to get them to be fair. So I have my own dark payback and that is what keeps me sane and stops me getting mad and blowing a gasket. Do I sound scarey? I think all women are, and can be, and men ought to be scared to evoke that bit of us...
ReplyDeletevelvet wearing gemini :)
Dear Velvet Wearing Gemini - but why are they so lazy!!! What the hell is that about? Why can they not see that living like a pig... like the images all over this website - is fricking disgusting! And my own payback is to be cold and not go out of my way at all. When there is a pause in activity, I retreat to my piano. Trouble is, the idiot doesn't even notice. If I packed his bags and threw them at his damned head, he's say "what!!??"
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