Filthy mongrel

Isla Taboga
Originally uploaded by ~julia

Have you ever gotten in a space where you feel like you’re doing EVERYTHING? Where every single exertion of effort seems magnified by the perceived injustice of life? The inequalities, the unfairness, oh the burden of it all!!

When that happens to me I find it useful to think about all of the things I don’t do. Like, for example, laundry. Since we’ve moved into the house last August I think I’ve done laundry (from the color sorting to the final folding) once…maybe twice.
Nope, once.

I am an avid participator in the folding of laundry because, if I weren't, there would just be baskets of clean, clothing sitting around.
I can almost hear the wrinkles setting in.
My husband’s solution to that of course is to either A- not care or B- iron. But ironing is a whole other step that can usually be avoided with the proper timing of dryer extraction and folding.

Yea, I talk a good laundry game but see the original statement about my laundry habits – or lack there of.

If it were left up to me, laundry wouldn’t get done until I was down to the funny looking underwear....


Another thing I don’t do – Garbage/recycling/yard waste collection. I mean, I throw everything into their proper receptacles, but the gathering of bags and the setting out of bins the night before or the morning of grabage day…nah. If I happen to be outside on Friday evening, and it’s still light outside, and I’m not already carrying several bags, and I don’t have to head off a toddler from running into the street, then I MIGHT roll the bins back into the side yard – but I might not.

What else?

Vacuum. Yea, I know, what kind of mother am I right? Well, in my defense, I do sweep. But as far as vacuuming goes, even once there is a visible layer of yarn pieces, cereal and graham cracker crumbs, and whatever else…I just start doing my pushups in the bedroom so I don't have to have it within inches of my nose. But if that does happen, I just do exercises where I'm standing :)
We only have the one rug in the living room and we don’t wear our shoes past the entry way of the house and like I said, I do sweep. So it can’t be that bad, right?

Those are the big three domestic chores I put in minimal amount of effort into. And I don't feel one twinge of guilt. Besides, I don’t want Mr. Man to feel left out.