this woman's liberation

With the husband gone away on business (again), I am left with the usual household chores and responsibilities and all the other crappy ones that he does. Now, before anyone gets his/her knickers in a bunch, let me preface this by saying that, yes, I do believe in equality amongst the sexes and in relationships. I think that there should be a division of duties with the home, the finances and the children that works best for each individual family. Anything men can do, women can do and vice versa. Bla bla bla. That being said, there are things that are designated the "hubby" chores - not because I can't do these things, but simply because I don't want to do these things. I carried three children in my body and pushed them out of my body and it hurt - a whole lot. Because of this fact alone, I insist that I be excused from certain things that I detest. However, when one is away from the home for an extended period of time, the other must pick up the slack in these certain areas of ickiness or else the neighbors might complain. I have composed a list (remember how much I love those suckers?) of things that should be left to the menfolk.

1) unclogging the toilet. I hate this daily, yes daily, stink job. How is it possible that a 57 pound child could possibly poo bricks each and every day? I don't know but I think he is a medical marvel.

2) folding laundry. I don't mind washing, drying, schlepping the baskets, but I really don't like the folding. Especially the matching of the socks. Torture.

3) bedtime. This is way more effective when there is a tag team - good cop bad cop style. I get weary trying to be both and I think it confuses the kids when I pretend to be both. Just go the *bleep* to bed!

d) middle of the night peeing of the dogs. Obviously.

5) trash. It smells and more often than not, the racoons feast during the dark hours and leave messes that need to be addressed in the light hours.

6) checking to make sure that all of the windows, doors, bulkheads are locked and secure before sleeptime. I can never remember and so I panic and OCD takes over.

7) making the coffee. I don't know why, I just prefer that someone else does this.

So, needless to say, here I am with the plunger and threatening the kids and scooping shovels of filthy rubbish and suffering from the inability to work the wII remotes and praying that I unlocked the front door before peeing the dogs in my pjs at 2A. If you happen to bump into me this week, or if I literally bump into you with my grocery cart or van, please be kind and forgive me. I have lost my marbles.