I proudly wear the titles wife and mother. Still, I'd prefer to have the titles ruler and dictator.
I don't mind the cleaning, the laundry, the dishes, the mopping, the vacuuming, or the cooking. I don't mind the carpooling, the scheduling, the budgeting, or the organizing.
Okay, I mind a little. It's my job not my passion, and if I want these things done right, I have to do them.
But it never fails, in the middle of my cleaning escapades, to look over and find my husband sitting on the couch. Just sitting there, not doing anything. It makes my blood boil.
I try making extra noise in the kitchen, I try turning on the vacuum behind him, I try dusting the television he can't pry his eyes off of. All my subtle attempts fail to draw his attention. Finally I can't stand it any longer.
"Are you just going to sit there?" It's a demand more than a question.
He's oblivious to his three pairs of shoes scattered in the middle of the floor, the knocked over sunflower seed bowl spilling down the cushions, or the fact that he has tracked taping mud through the entire house. I just finished sweeping!
I start thinking, "Men have it so easy! I wish I were that blind."
Then I remember, that's why he has me in his life...to make his life harder.
It's all about balance.