When I was a young mother, I visited my sister in northern Virginia. We stopped at a gas station to fill up and she asked if I would do the honors. I did so, got back in the car, and said, "I can show you how to fill up the tank if you don't know how."
My sister is very petite. She's barely five feet tall, but incredibly independent and rather ferocious when she wants to be.
She looked hard at me and said, "Oh, Jo, I know how to fill up the gas tank. I just like to maintain the illusion that I don't, so my husband will do it for me."
Now, there's not a truly deceptive bone in my sis's body, so I -- a true California independent woman -- was amazed at her subterfuge. She claimed she had no intention of ever putting gas in her -- or any other -- car.
There were plenty of other meaningful chores to occupy her time. She's also one of the most efficiently aggressive housekeepers I've ever known, always has a well-balanced hot meal on the table (even though there are only the two of them now and no longer the four children she raised), and maintains a well-stocked food supply in her larder and freezer, lest we should be attacked by aliens and be without water and other necessities at some point in the future.
I began thinking about the things I refuse to do or conveniently allow Dr. Big to do. Here's my list:
1. Yard work -- I see no redeeming quality about ploughing my fingers into Mother Nature's bosom to dig up weeds or in pushing a lawn mower around our massive backyard. I don't like to sweat unless it's on the treadmill.
2. Change a light bulb -- Any idiot can perform this menial task, but I've learned well from my big sis and convinced Dr. Big that (a) I'm too short or (b) I'm too dim-witted to change a light bulb. However, he seems rather to enjoy this little job.
3. Run the vacuum cleaner -- This is Dr. Big's own fault. I warned him when he bought that big-ass 200 pound vacuum that I would not push it around my deep piled carpet.
4. Open the mail -- Unless the mail is addressed directly to me in someone's handwriting, I figure it's junk and belongs where all junk goes.
5. Write letters in long hand -- God made email for a good reason.
On the other hand, I love to do these things:
1. Change the paper towel dowel or toilet paper dowel with surprising regularity -- This is a very good thing because Dr. Big seems anatomically incapable of doing either.
2. Iron -- There's something very soothing about ironing although I seldom do it any more. Many of you have agreed with me on this.
3. Bake -- Bread, cakes, cookies, candy, pies, love, love, love baking, not so much with the regular cooking.
4. Clean toilets -- mainly because dirty ones gross me out.
5. Write -- Seriously, I can spend hours and hours on writing a book when the going is fluid and smooth and comes out of my brain and fingers like a gift from God. Shiver.
What about you? What's on your refuse-to-do list?
What chores do you get husband, brother, father, or son to do for you?
What household chores do you enjoy doing? Any weird hobbies or pasttimes?