Yesterday me and the Dad2babyinsomniac mainly spent the day
arguing debating about who should wash his socks. We debated it in a really childish mature way and at no point did we resort to calling each other names such as ‘wotsit face’ and ‘burnt kipper sandwich lover’.
We never really argue, we get bored and take the mickey out of each other sometimes but that’s just for fun (no-one wants to be nice all the time) but I think I must be pre-menstrual because I can’t seem to let this sock issue go. It all started yesterday morning. We were supposed to be going out but it was hammering it down with rain all morning so we couldn’t go - even Dad2babyinsomniac admitted that going to Weston Super-Mare to watch a car show in the rain wouldn’t have been much fun. Although on reflection it probably would have been a million times better than what we actually spent the day doing.
Within an hour of being stuck indoors we were both bored. He was moaning at me for spending too much money on food and I was moaning at him for wanting to cook a fishfinger sandwich. He then let slip that in the eight hours a day when he was at work, I should be able to clean the house. Cue the war.
Dad2babyinsomniac sees being a mum and being a housewife as one job, I see it as two. I love being a mum and am good at it but I hate being a housewife and am rubbish at it. I don’t mind all the essential stuff like washing-up, hoovering and bathroom cleaning but I draw the line at picking up cups that have been left all over the house and washing his dirty underwear. Especially socks.
I don’t think it is out of order to ask him to do one thing around the house and that one thing is his washing. I hate having to pick up his dirty, crusty socks and pull them out of the ball that they end up in after he has taken them off his feet and dumped them in a pile on the bathroom floor. I have written about my hatred of socks before but the problem was never really resolved – I must have just forgotten about it for a couple of weeks.
The outcome of our
argument debate is that he has agreed to do his own washing but I know he thinks that I have completely lost the plot. I just can’t drop it because although he has agreed to do his own washing, he doesn’t understand why I hate doing it and that’s what is so annoying!
Does being a mum mean that you have to do every single household duty?!
p.s Dad2babyinsomniac has read this and given me his permission to post it!