In which I earn my first hash marks, fortunately they are the good kind

hashmarksIt was the seventh inning stretch and Louie-Louiii-ii-ii and I both happened to stand up at the same time to, you know, stretch. I don’t exactly remember how our convo got into housework. It was not because L-L was running the vacuum in his cube when I got to work this morning. I think he’s about the only person besides the cleaning contractors who ever runs the vacuum. I *think* we started with the “R” word and then there was something about a Job Jar (his suggestion, NOT mine, thank you very much, although I DOOOOOO want the compost bin fixed up).

We were talking about sharing household chores with a partner and I was talking about the stuff that I just DOOO. Like the dishes and the laundry and cleaning the bathroom and getting the garbage carts out (and milking the cow and slopping the hogs and feeding the chickens). I almost NEVER ask for help with any of the stuff I more or less routinely do. It’s part of my routine and I just do it without thinking about it and, hmmm, sometimes, when Other People help with it, they, uh, don’t quiiiiiite do it the way I want it done. That’s okay, but… On the other hand, I do NOT put air in the Ninja’s taaaaaars on the frequent occasions that the taaaaaar light goes on. That’s Somebody Else’s Job. Things work out pretty well when people take care of the stuff they DOOOO and arguments about who did what percentage of what don’t tend to happen.

And then there’s making the bed. I mean making it so it doesn’t look like somebody just haphazardly threw a comforter over a big mess of sheets and called it good. I don’t mean Nurse Corners either. Just pulling off the top covers so that the sheets can be pulled up somewhat neatly. I only randomly made beds until I was 40-something. I don’t know what changed. Making the bed does NOT particularly improve the overall appearance of the Messter Bedroom due to the ebb and flow of the various shambling mounds that live and breed there. I just got obsessive about it. It’s much more comfortable to at least *start* the night in a bed with more or less organized sheets. I did that chore for years but somewhere along the line, the GG took it over. Quietly. Without being nagged or harassed or even *asked*.

I told L-L about this development and that earned me a set of RED hash marks on the board. I do not understand the rules for putting hash marks on L-L’s board. It has something to do with “the girls” earning them when they dis their significant others. FZ has his own special area and I didn’t ask what that was about because I’m not sure I want to know. Apparently RED is GOOD though and because I made some nice comments about my long-suffering cat-herding significant other, I am on the board for the first time ever.

Can you tell I am proud of myself? [insert cheesy grin here]

2 Responses to “In which I earn my first hash marks, fortunately they are the good kind”

  1. Sam Says:

    Fact check: you have no cattle, hogs, or poultry. Or, I’m thinking, (dust) bunnies (yay!, Roomba).

    I agree with you that “pulling up the covers” is not the same as “making the bed.”

    I’m with you on the more-or-less taut sheet comfort starting the sleep-phase.


  2. Margaret Says:

    I make the bed every day, but don’t obsess too much about perfection. (it’s still pretty close though) I like pulling down the comforter and climbing in to a tight blanket and top sheet–very comforting. A need for control? Probably.