Thursday, February 16, 2012

My Little Secret

Last night Jason cleaned the kitchen while I vegged out on the couch. In my defense, I'm struggling with a sinus infection. Earlier this evening, Jason and I were hanging out in the kitchen, trying to figure out what we wanted to do for dinner. Here is the conversation that occurred during that time:

Jason: "Look what I did for you." (referring to the clean kitchen)
Me: "Thank you, 1950s Asshole."
Jason: "Hey, some of your happiest moments have been when you've been all domesticated"
Me: "Ummm.... no...?
Jason: "So, anyway - I helped you out. Happy Valentine's Day!"

Ok, let's look at the things wrong with this conversation. First of all, Valentine's Day was 2 days ago. Next, if some of my happiest moments have been when I've been all domesticated, how is cleaning the kitchen for me a help? Wouldn't that actually make me sad because I've now lost my purpose for living? And finally, the fact that Jason actually thinks that I enjoy playing Betty Homemaker... Aw hell, ok, fine. I admit it. I do sometimes - let me reiterate that - SOMETIMES get a kick out of pretending to be a little housewife. Damn, I hate (yet love) that Jason knows me so well.


  1. NOOOO complaining about a husband that cleans Missy!!!! If only... I love to cook and bake but would rather kick kittens than clean!!!!!

  2. You do have a good point about not complaining. Because, even though, I do sometimes have "enjoy" cleaning, those moments are rare. 99.9% of the time I'd rather be doing something else. Like slitting my wrists. Or kicking kittens.