Holiday Mondays don't mean the same for me as they mean for you. And this is why....
Last night the man was answering emails and then he turned to me and said, "What are you doing tomorrow?"
He never asks me this because I think he typically knows what I am doing at any given time. And due to my not secret disdain for busy, crowded places, especially busy, crowded places on really hot days, it's a safe bet I will be at home, where it's only slightly crowded.
I didn't respond fast enough to his inquiry for his liking and I think I mumbled out a question, mostly taken off guard by his inquisitiveness into my daily happenings, and said something like, "why do you ask?"
To which he responded with, "I think I'm going to go to work." Like there was any doubt as to where the man was going to be today.
At this point he got up and went to bed. After which ensued a really irritating texting convo I won't bore you with.
The point being, and who I am kidding, there is no point but regardless, I found it weird that he asked me my plans and that he also announced he would be working. So my super sleuth senses started to tingle and I wondered what the root of this conversation was.
The root is simple, he is working because he can and because he hasn't worked since Thursday.
So why all the chit chat? Don't ask me because I simply don't know.
What I do know is that on Saturday I had a day off from work. Amelia said, "A day off from what work?" I sighed and maybe rolled my eyes. Yes, I rolled my eyes. I then began the planning of how much I could cram into one day and how long I could stay away before the people sent out a search party.
I gave two instructions to the man before I left for my day.
One, pack the tent into the bag for me.
This is how I camp. I pack us all up. I set up the tent. I camp with kids alone for days. I throw everything into the truck and return home where I proceed to do 20 loads of laundry. What? You don't believe me? Well......you probably shouldn't. It was more like 7. Or 20.
The man always packs the tent away for me. He's good that way and saves me the serious headache of trying to maneuver the tent back into the too small bag it came in.
So that was the first instruction. Which didn't happen.
The second was to keep the freshly cleaned kitchen clean. I cleaned it. It was clean. Just keep it that way.
Now the tent? That may have been asking too much but he agreed so I went with it. But the kitchen? Keeping an already clean kitchen clean? Come on now.......
He had the boys unload the dishwasher. It was empty. And every plate and cup and utensil we owned was either in the sink or on the counter.
Okay, again with the over exaggeration. Not every single plate and cup and utensil. It may as well have been though. It was a disaster.
Now not that it was all his fault. I did come home and get him and take him on a date with me. So he wasn't here but the children were and they were doing their darndest to aggravate me with the undoing of my clean kitchen.
Where am I going with this? Well, lets see. I am going insane with this. Trying to find the fine line between doing my job as mommy and housewife and being dumped upon with disregard and dis-courteousness is hard. It's chore unto itself.
The line is fine. So fine I think it's made of fishing wire. No one can see it but me. But that's because I am the only one paying attention.
And this, my friends, is life's greatest question. Not where did we come from? Or where are we going? Or how are babies made? Or why is the tent so hard to get back into the bag? Or are overalls cool again?
It's 'why am I the only one paying attention around here?' Asked by yours truly. Every single day of my life.
There is no garbage bag in the garbage so instead of putting one in let's just dump our garbage all over. Someone will come and clean it up.
I want microwave popcorn so instead of unwrapping it and and throwing the plastic out I will leave it here on the counter and someone will come over here and clean it up.
Instead of hanging my wet towel on one of the two racks that someone has lovingly provided I will leave it on the floor and someone will come and hang it up.
Instead of putting my shoes on one of the numerous shoe racks in the house that someone has so strategically placed for the convenience of others I will leave them on the floor and then yell at the dog when she eats them.
Well that someone has something to say on the matter. And it's going to be said in a family meeting this evening. And it's going to accomplish one of two things. Either the people in this house will start to "pay attention" and do their share or a certain someone will be spending a lot less time cooking food she doesn't eat and washing clothes she doesn't wear and cleaning up the popcorn mess of which she did not eat one single kernel. That someone will be spending more time reading her book and writing her book and doing what she wants since doing what we want seems to be the acceptable form of behaviour around this particular establishment.
I will keep you posted. But in the meantime, here is some food for thought. Overalls are not cool or cute and in all honesty, never were. Unless you are under two and they are corduroy and say something like Osh Kosh on them.
Post edit: as I was writing this very post the man came home from work to get a tool and while he was here, without being asked, he put the tent into its too small bag. He wasn't asked or reminded. He just did it. So although it's two days late it's done and I don't feel like strangling him with the fine line. Anymore. For awhile, anyway. Until I trip on that fine line again, which I expect to happen at any moment........