So yesterday I finished a new cover for the ottoman, and cleaned my kitchen, and worked. I also did some lolling around reading and knitting. I couldn’t quite bring myself to grade papers, but I did do the attendance tracking. I did an hour of Wii Fit, and this morning it has given me a bronze fitness bank. Of course, it’s a virtual prize, not a real one.
My husband complained about my schedule yesterday. He said I was acting as though I were single. By this he doesn’t mean that I go out to nightclubs and spend money on mani-pedis, but that I don’t have his dinner ready on time, and don’t do enough housework.
He’s right, of course, at least for some value of right.
He complained that he has to do the dishes. Almost every day. He said this in a tone of voice that made it clear that he had assumed that I didn’t realize he was doing the dishes, and would be horrified to think of him having to do such a thing.
I don’t find it horrifying that he has to put dishes into the dishwasher. But I’m willing to believe that he finds it horrifying.