Well, this is not how I thought tonight’s post was going to go – but I have to give credit when it’s due, so here it goes.
I love you.
I was planning a rant on the balance of housework between the sexes. I was fully expecting it to generate a discussion in my comments about how boys will be boys and I should just get used to it, women just tend to do more.
A brief recap…
Last night we went to my parents to do laundry, and the Boy got there first so he “started” this means he put a TON of clothes in the washer put in the soap and turned it on. I arrived, and shortly afterward the washer was finished boy to me “the laundry is finished.” Me (in my head) “are your legs broken?” The night progressed with dinner, more laundry, making lunches, more laundry, cleaning up dinner, more laundry and eventually a conversation between us about the difference between physical labour and social work, and how despite popular belief they are both tiring. This just in… I’m tired too at the end of the work day.
This led to another discussion about “helping,” that is the Boy saying “I helped” and me saying “helping is not starting one load, and flipping the steak on the barbecue.” Finally, the Boy getting upset because as he saw it I was saying “he does nothing” – (*Not true, and I made sure to not utter the words “you do nothing” he does a lot – just not yesterday)
So that’s the recap – I was all prepared to rant about this conversation not just skim over the highlights for the amusement of my loyal followers (my mom, my sister, and the Boy mostly) but then we got an unwanted house guest and everything changed.
Throughout the winter we’ve heard the scritch scratch of Jerry – our mouse. He went away for a while but he’s been back lately. When we first started hearing him we were sure to put anything open into plastic and went down to our neighbourhood Canadian Tire and chose our method of capture. I left this decision in the Boy’s capable hands. I told him, this is a blue job, I am not dealing with the disposal of any mice – dead or alive. We went the whole winter, we didn’t catch anything. Today, I was putting the groceries away, and there he was Jerry – dead.
Not only did the boy dispose of him, clean up and set a new trap, he also took that opportunity to take out the rest of the garbage, put our laundry away and, after washing his hands I can only hope, made us dinner – including a veggie burger just for me. Awesome.
Now I can’t claim that my rant the night before had an effect on tonight’s proceedings, I have full confidence that he would have dealt with Jerry regardless. But I was genuinely happy that he took care of everything tonight. It reminded me that I do have a good one (not that I was questioning) and we do have a pretty good balance. However, seeing him do everything tonight did restore my confidence that he probably won’t claim to be “babysitting” in the distant future, when I leave him alone with our children – the Daddy equivalent to “helping!”
Dishes aren’t done – I guess that’s my side of the balance tonight. Boo.