Genius Toiling in Obscurity

Not Perfect, But Perhaps Better Than I Deserve

Despite being so very tired, I had trouble getting to sleep last night. As a result, I was not the least bit ready to get up when Eric woke me at 7:30 this morning. Some time later, David spotted me on the couch, wearing a highly disreputable bathrobe, staring blankly into space. "You look like a zombie," he said. "I'm so tired!" I replied, tears welling up in my eyes. "Go back to bed," he said. So I did, and I slept until 10:30. As a result of the extra sleep, my status has been upgraded from "completely non-functional" to "moving slowly and steadily; looking forward to nap time." Out of gratitude to a man who could let me sleep in when he should have been getting to work, I offer the following tribute:

Three Things David Does Every Single Day That Make My Life Immeasurably Easier:
These are three small-ish things that have a disproportionate effect on the smooth running of my life, each of them being a straw-on-the-camel's-back kind of task that I find overwhelming, even when I'm not pregnant and exhausted. Disclaimer: this is not meant to imply that these three things are the total contribution he makes to household maintenance and child care.

Unload the dishwasher.
I can keep the kitchen clean. I can load the dishwasher, wash all the pots and pans, clean the countertops and stovetop, and wipe the table. But if I have to spend three minutes unloading the dishwasher before I do those things, the job becomes impossible. So David unloads it, every morning.

Pick up toys.
David comes home from work every day and picks up all the scattered blocks, puzzle pieces, Playmobil people, books, crayons, coloring book, cars, trucks, boats, bowls, spoons, and musical instruments Eric has scattered throughout the house.

Take Eric to the bathroom in the middle of the night.
I have woken up in a dry bed many a morning because David took Eric to the potty at 3 a.m. The most help I have ever given him is that I will leave Eric's potty insert on the toilet seat if I happen to have been in there.

Three things that I would find really annoying about me if I were David:

I eat his candy.
I am always buying David special treats when I do the grocery shopping. He likes Hot Tamales, peanut butter cups, and assorted other kinds of candies that I don't especially like, and I love choosing them for him, thinking, "Won't he be pleased that I thought of him!" And he is. But then it takes him so long to get around to eating his treats that I finish all of mine. I resolve not to eat his, and then, desperate in the middle of a long, sugarless afternoon, I eat it anyway. By the time he thinks, "Ummm, some of those Hot Tamales Su bought for me last week would really hit the spot," there's nothing in the treat basket but a nearly-empty box. But he never says anything more reproachful than, "Looks like the mice got at my candy again."

I complain when he gets cranky even when I have been acting the same way only moments earlier.
"Stop being so cranky!" I snap at him.

I complain about things around the house not being done, even when they're my responsibility.
"I hate it when the floor needs sweeping! There are big piles of scattered bird food and dog hair everywhere! Whey isn't the floor clean?" Well, that would be because you haven't swept it, Su, it being your job and all. David just says, "It looks fine." And then I get mad at him for being cheerful and reassuring instead of agreeing with me that things are badly out of control.

The one thing about David that makes me feel most undeserving:
If I have done any tiny little bit of housework--like, I dusted six square inches of the mantel or moved three magazines from the couch to the magazine bin--he says, "Wow, the house looks great!" If I fail to do any housework--like, say, the dog hair is drifted so high that he is wading through it up to his knees as he makes his way to the kitchen for a snack--he never says a word.

Posted by Su Penn at March 19, 2004 02:16 PM | TrackBack