Word to the wise. If you want your spouse’s help with any chores never, ever, ever critique the method in which they preform those chores. Your way may be fine for you but if their technique gets the job done just as well leave them alone.
I cook because I like to cook. The woman doesn’t. I get to experiment and do crazy shit and if it was left up to her I’d eat mac and cheese every night, bless her heart.
I clean the kitchen because otherwise I wouldn’t know where the hell to find things when I’m cooking.
It’s really not rocket surgery, I don’t need P&G making training wheels for me. If Fram came out with an oil change kit marketed as “so easy even a helpless li’l woman can do it”, I guarantee the excrement would hit the rotary ventilator.
Comment by apotheosis — December 5, 2012 @ 8:47 am
I got an unsolicited poll of *1* from my house cleaner. Attractive, about 35, give or take, she remarked: “You keep a clean house.” I answered, “The Marine Corps mighta had something to do with that.” She then said, “My husband does one thing really good. He folds the sheets perfectly, but everything else he just tosses around, like his dirty clothes…”
Poll accuracy: somewhere between 0 & 100% reliability. [...footnote: unsolicited poll occurred while I was writing her paycheck...] You decide
Comment by Colonel Jerry USMC — December 5, 2012 @ 9:10 am
apotheosis, I “let” JR clean the kitchen occasionally…I just “make” him put all the less than obvious things ( read: things other than knives, forks, spoons, plates and glasses ) in a pile. His problem is not so much that he puts my gadgets in the wrong place it’s that he never puts them in the SAME wrong place!
I cook because I like to. I do laundry because I love doing laundry and he mows the lawn and cleans the shower because I hate to etc etc……… :)
Comment by SondraK, Queen of my domain — December 5, 2012 @ 9:32 am
If I screw up the laundry, I won’t be asked to do it again. That’s our little secret.
Comment by Alan outback bacon czar — December 5, 2012 @ 9:33 am
Doing “house work” for men is like hearing — selective.
Comment by geezerette — December 5, 2012 @ 9:44 am
Men can be pretty filthy, and many will screw up chores as spectacularly as possible, to make sure they’re not asked to do them again.
Comment by SteveHGraham — December 5, 2012 @ 9:57 am
^ JR cleans a better bathroom that *I* do. He’s afraid to do a bad job because I cook his food :)
Ladies, do the cooking. It’s the best leverage you can have!
Comment by SondraK, Queen of my domain — December 5, 2012 @ 10:00 am
I do most of our cooking, but that’s about the extent of household chores.
Comment by Alan outback bacon czar — December 5, 2012 @ 10:26 am
Sometimes I take laundry out of the washer and put it in the dryer. Does that count as doing laundry?
Comment by Alan outback bacon czar — December 5, 2012 @ 11:04 am
There does exist male and female cleaning standards at this house. Among us men folk there are a lot more “Oscars” than “Felixes.” It’s just how we’re wired, in general. There would be exceptions, as always. No, not all of the male neat freaks are gay. I’ve know a couple that could make MY cleaning standards damn near hospital-like.
Procter & Gamble this year introduced Tide Pods… single-dose pouches of detergent,
As we become a 3rd World economy, the big boys will start marketing to us as they do overseas. Who will have the cash to buy a Super Duper Sized Tide? We will be lucky to scrape up the scratch to buy a handful of Tide Pods at a time. That half gallon of ice cream you just bought is already only 48 ounces. Gas up in a poor part of town and you will see people buying their cigarettes a few at a time
Happy Days are Here Again!.
Comment by Freddie Sykes — December 5, 2012 @ 11:33 am
No, not all of the male neat freaks are gay.
My dad thinks any man who doesn’t like sitting on congealed urine is a homo.
Comment by SteveHGraham — December 5, 2012 @ 12:15 pm
SteveHGraham wins! Or his dad does. BTW, if I’m ever at your father’s house, show me the closet shrubbery. I’ll be discreet.
Comment by dick, not quite dead white guy — December 5, 2012 @ 1:02 pm
“It’s chemistry and machines: men will never figure it out.”
Except for the white men who invented both.
Get back in the kitchen and make me a sammich!
Comment by Throw Back — December 5, 2012 @ 2:25 pm
^^ How, exactly, does one get urine to congeal? I mean,
I’ve tried many times, but the best I can do is to achieve a sort of sticky paste.
Are there some secrets you’re not sharing with us?
I tho’t Tide pods we going to be banned because children ate them.
Comment by geezerette — December 5, 2012 @ 4:37 pm
Comment by Fat Baxter — December 5, 2012 @ 5:05 pm
Alan (6) Shutuuuup, you fool!!!!
But yeah …
Do it right, and you’re expected to do it again.
Do it wrong, and you won’t be asked to do it again.
‘Course, bein’ a bachelor, I do it all, anyhows.
Then again, ain’t nobody around to give me crap about screwin’ up, neither.
Of course, I can sew by hand and machine. Livin’ solo on a sailboat for a few years means learnin’ sailor sewin’ and canvas work. Hey, a feller’s gotta know how to use tools and machinery.
And, as ColJ mentions, hirin’ a cleaning lady once in a while helps a lot.
(What? Nooo, that’s not sexist. I get an occasional yard man, too.)
Comment by DougM (Well, thaaat sucked!) — December 5, 2012 @ 5:08 pm
Comment by DougM (Well, thaaat sucked!) — December 5, 2012 @ 6:25 pm
DougM (24), around the Porch here, particularly from Claire,
would that linky be called the ‘ironing ironing’?
After I got outta Naval Aviation back in the ol’ days,
(planes still had round piston engines & big props)
I went to work for Sears, servicing washers & dryers out in
customer’s homes & hovels. So I went to washing & drying
school! Guess who gets to do the laundry? Many years
later when I was living with a wimminz, she complained
’bout her dryer not working proper like! So I promptly got
my toolbox, took it to pieces, fixed it, cleaned it up, put it
all back together & then dried the laundry! Guess what I
got to do for the rest of our relationship! She knew just
how to flatter me & play the helpless female! Then I
got roped into fixing the stove & fridge too!
I dated my wife starting in high school. I got to know the family well before we got married, they started treating me like their own kid. Her dad would be walking around the house in a t-shirt that had holes in it. Apparently most of his t-shirts had holes in them.
After we were married I was talking to my wife while she was doing the wash. I had to teach her that you don’t pour the bleach in on top of the clothes and then start running the water in.
I’m also pretty active in the Boy Scouts. My whole family has been ever since my older brothers were 6 years old, even Dad and Mom. Mom decided that her sons (she had no daughters) should be able to take care of themselves. So we learned how to do laundry – wash, dry (w/ or w/out dryer), iron, and sew (from the viewpoint of fixing clothing, not making new ones). More than once a Mom has asked me “Where do I go to have the patches on my son’s uniform sewn on like yours are” and then looked at me like I was from Mars when I tell them “I sewed all of these on myself”.
I ran into trouble one time. One of the parents suggested that we have all the women bring in their sewing machines and do all the uniforms as a group. Before I could stop myself I said “I don’t think that’ll work. Judging from the kids’ uniforms half of them either don’t have one or don’t know how to use it.”
I made my own shirt, from scratch, when I was 11. Sure, Mom helped me (right before I shot her), but she just showed me how to pin the pattern to the fabric, cut it out, and how to thread the bobbin.
Just because it had six buttons on one side and seven button holes on the other (I also learned how to use the button-hole-maker-dealie and got kinda carried away) doesn’t mean that it didn’t look kind of like a shirt.
I can also cook, yank the tranny out of your BMW or Porsche, replace the clutch, give it a valve job, and sing on Broadway while chewing gum and filing my nails, building an entire house from the ground-up, doing laundry and writing a couple of hit songs during the dryer cycle. But I will never brag about it.
HogW (29), pleeez tell us Porch Minkees just what kinda ‘tranny’
you wanna take outta my Porsche Carrera 4?? I hope you mean
the tranny tranny in the right front seat, & not the
one under the back seat! Yanno da 5-speed Porsche Tiptronic tranny!
The Tiptronic transmission might have gotten better over the years, but I wouldn’t want one. It’s just a euphemism for a pussy tranny. If you can’t handle a clutch, brakes, and the gas pedal all at the same time, while getting a blow job, then maybe you should take the bus.
HogW (31), when you say handle a clutch, brakes, and the gas pedal
all at the same time, are you referring to the ‘heel & toe’ method,
plus ‘double-clutching’ to shift the old non-synchromesh trannies?
That’s what I had to do on my old Brit 1953 MG-TD2. At this site:
^ Lance, naturally I was referring to the ‘heel & toe’ method, although the pedals in that particular model were not especially amenable to it. Having lost more than one clutch in my lifetime, I feel confident in saying, “If the engine starts, I can drive the motherfucker”.
HogW^, I’ve had to drive a 40′ Silver Eagle Motor Coach
conversion in Chicago with busted clutch linkage!
Detroit Diesel 8V-71N & 16 speed Spicer tranny.
had to shut engine off at every stoplight! But I got
to destination & back to garage OK. Temporary fix
of linkage with a big vise-grips. Innerestin’ shiftin’
in city traffic without clutch! Good ol’ days!
^ I can still remember riding-around with one of the ‘older guys’ when I was still in high school. His shifter consisted of two pairs of vice grips. It was a ‘built’ 289 Comet. It was faster than shit, and I’ve either rode or drove more than a few of them.
It was an exciting ride.
Speaking of 289′s, This old widow I was doing some remodeling for had this ’68 Mustang that was her deceased husband’s favorite toy, outside of his Phantom 4F. I mentioned to her one time that it needed to be driven once in a while, just to keep everything oiled-up.
So she handed me the keys and said, “Would you take it out and drive it for me please?” So I did.
Everything was going swimmingly till I came to the first corner on that mountain road. I mean, that sumbitch got-up and went! The only problem was, NO BRAKES!!!