The Husband Who Can’t Find the Dishwasher
Dear Mouthy Housewives,
What is the best way to drive home the message that dirty dishes go in the dishwasher and not in the sink as a staging area? Because I’m about to kill my husband and appear on a very special episode of “Snapped.”
Signed,
Dishpan Hands
__________________________________
Dear Dishpan Hands,
I certainly sympathize with your problem, however I must tell you that you need to let go of your anger immediately. You see, according to the New England Journal of Made-Up Medicine, scientists have recently discovered that the DNA code of male humans does not include the “Clean Up After Your Own Shit” gene. Yep, they can’t help it, the dirty, little darlings. They were just born that way.
In fact, over the past 18 years of my marriage, I have observed this genetic anomaly on a daily basis. To wit: Husband uses bowl. Husband places bowl in sink that’s TEN INCHES away from the shiny dishwasher he himself installed. Husband wanders away to scratch. Twelve hours later, husband opens cabinet and grabs same, exact bowl that’s now magically clean. How’d that happen? he wonders. Osmosis? Fairies? The ghost of Billy Mays? Ah, well, who the f*ck cares? Cereal good.
Now despite his affliction, I’ve still tried a few guerrilla tactics to try to change his behavior over the years. Maybe one of these would do the trick for you:
1) Let the dishes pile up until the kitchen smells like the dumpster behind the Chattanooga Waffle House
2) Invite his parents over for a fancy dinner, then serve filet mignon on disposable paper plates
3) Invite his boss over for a fancy dinner served on your wedding china, then while she’s watching, have the dog lick the plates clean before you put them back in the cabinets
4) Fill the dishwasher with beer, popcorn and Victoria’s Secret catalogs so he forever associates it with “good stuff inside.”
5) Finally, refuse to let him “load your dishwasher” until he “loads the dishwasher.”
Of course, none of those things has actually worked for me. No, I’m still transferring dishes out of the sink and into the dishwasher like the world’s prettiest indentured servant. But you know what? I’m okay with that because I recently discovered a genetic anomaly of my own: The inability to not order shoes online when seething with resentment over household chores.
Good luck,
Wendi, TMH
26 Comments <-- Click to comment
He Cleans. But He Snarks, Too
Dear Mouthy Housewives,
My husband is not like many men. He’s a neat freak, anal retentive, and basically never stops! He is constantly cleaning, working, out in the garden, or fixing something. I chip in with the chores often so it’s not all one sided but he’s so annoying that if I clean something, it’s not clean enough so he does it all over again – then complains that I don’t help. He’ll ask me to do something and if I don’t do it that very second, he does it and complains that I don’t help. I will tell him I’m going to do this, this, and this but he just does it anyway – and says I don’t help! He’s driving me crazy especially because of the digs he plays on me daily. If I’m vacuuming or something, he’ll say, it’s about time you did something. I just want to strangle him! He never sees all the stuff I’m doing every day, just focuses on stuff that’s not done yet. He’s constantly living life trying to “get things done” and I’m sick of it! I want A. to rest sometimes, B. him to realize I do help! and C. to stop the digs!
Signed,
No Help
_________________________________________________
Dear No Help,
I am writing this advice from the top of a Laundry Mountain, so I have to assume that what you have here is a genuine problem and not an attempt to rub my face into the fact while my husband is watching the Mets game, your husband is a cleaning machine. A cleaning machine that seems to want you to clean along side with him , at supersonic speed and at his specifications. Hmm…I’m starting to see the issue.
As so often happens in life, you have some choices!
1. Go the “gee whiz, but you do it so well” route, which basically butters him up to do it all while you act all lobotomized at the prospect of loading the dishwasher. Sure you lose face, but you’re preserving the marriage.
2. Take him on. Have a friend come over one day and watch as you and your husband each vacuum one half of the living room. Your friend will then rate each of you on speed, grace, and effectiveness. Feel free to do this for other cleaning chores, for as long as your friend is willing to play along. (And if you find that after a few rounds of The Clean-Off none of your friends return your calls, write us again! Because The Mouthy Housewives are here to help!)
3. Designate Cleaning Zones. Make a chart. One week, you’re responsible for dishwashing and bon bon eating while he dusts and vacuums and does laundry; the next week you switch and he does the laundry, vacuums and dusts while you eat bon bons. Tell him that according to your union rules, neither of you is to be supervised while cleaning and any digs received about your cleaning will lead to an immediate ceasing and desisting of the same.
Good luck!
Marinka, TMH
10 Comments <-- Click to comment
Shoes Off!
Dear Mouthy Housewives,
I have an question that I don’t think Emily Post would touch, so I’m guessing you are the right women to ask. I would like to know how you feel about the etiquette of being barefoot in someone else’s house. We have a lot of friends whose houses are shoe free — meaning they kick shoes off at the door so as to protect the cleanliness of their floors. In the winter, it’s no biggie as a guest: you just make sure you choose socks without holes before going over.
But in summer, when I almost never wear socks, I find myself often barefoot in other people’s homes. I’m always barefoot in mine, so it doesn’t really bother me, but I wonder if I really ought to be skeeved out. Or if they are. Should I put socks under my Tevas (fashion FAIL!) before I go over, just so that my feet aren’t bare on their floors? And what about the unanticipated visit when I’m wearing pretty sandals or summer slides…sockless? What would you do?
Signed, Well Pedicured in MI
__________________________________
Dear Well Pedicured,
Oh, I feel your pain. And I confess, I don’t understand the whole “take your shoes off, ye who enter here!” movement. Is it because their floors are so clean that they want to prove that they can, in fact, eat off of them? Or do they think that you’ve been tracking through the mud and don’t want pig slop on their carpet?
Personally, I think it’s rude to ask your guests to remove their shoes and pile them by the door like some kind of entryway to Treblinka. But when in Rome, do like the Romans. Which means that you have to start battling lions, or at the very least take off your shoes.
Summertime takes it up a notch and makes you walk around barefoot, like an older and slower Zola Budd. I have the very opposite of a foot fetish, so I don’t understand how anyone can bear to look at our people’s FEET. With TOES. And heels. Gag.
But to each her own. So if you suspect that your host is into shoelessness, slip a pair of socks into your purse before heading over to her house. Or better yet, bring your own slippers and robe. I’m pretty sure that’s what people say when they tell their guests “make yourself at home!”
Happy feet to you,
Marinka, TMH
30 Comments <-- Click to comment
The Haphazard Housewife Needs Your Help
Woo-hoo! It’s Day Two of the Mouthy Housewives’ first birthday celebration! Today the wonderful Wendi (who does not look like Tracey Gold’s DUI mugshot, so please stop telling her that) is asking all of you for a bit of advice. So come on ladies, get those fingers on your keyboards and show us what you’ve learned from Oprah!
Dear Mouthy Readers,
Ever since both of my sons started going to school seven hours a day, I find myself unable to keep a set schedule for myself. I’m not disorganized, but try as I might, I can’t seem to find a daily routine to follow. Some days I work out at 9 a.m., some days it’s 1 p.m. Some days I have my daily tub of ice cream at 5 p.m., some days it’s 5:05 p.m. Basically, I seem to go wherever the day takes me.
Is there an easy, non-restrictive way I can be more efficient with my writing time, my household time, my volunteering time and everything else that seems to pop up? (And please don’t suggest a pie chart—those only make me think of my daily ice cream. Is it 5:06 p.m. already?)
Signed,
Wendi, TMH
15 Comments <-- Click to comment
Laundry…Must. Do. Laundry.
Dear Mouthy Housewives,
Now that I’m raising a family, I’m doing laundry ALL of the time, so much so I hear the dryer buzzer in my sleep. Do you have any tips for how to handle laundry without it taking control of your life?
Signed,
A Beautiful Launderette
_______________________________
Dear My Beautiful Launderette,
Laundry is like capital punishment. Both are potentially offensive and yet, for the most part, constitutional.
Today only on The Mouthy Housewives, tell me how you’d prefer to be executed, and I’ll tell your corresponding laundry strategy.
Personally, I’d go with the firing squad. Because it’s dramatic and there’s fair chance that a bunch of them would miss and I, like Gloria Gaynor, would survive. Therefore, my laundry strategy is to do it all in one day, preferably on the weekend, so that I get the maximum impact. Also, there’s a good chance that there will be an unforeseeable event that will occur that will prevent me from doing the laundry on that day. Especially if I schedule the said unforeseeable event.
If you’re more of an electric chair kind of girl, have the kids do the laundry. You may be pleasantly shocked.
Lethal injection more your speed? Why not do a smaller load of laundry every day.
Prefer death by episodes of Gary Unmarried? No worries! A first year law student will get you off with an insanity defense and then you can come over and do my laundry.
Happy Folding,
Marinka, TMH
RSS Feed
