Tag Archives: marriage

Joys of Washing Dishes

My main chore growing up was vacuuming our carpet ocean and rug islands. Every rug was seemingly made with frills flowing from the border, designed to repeatedly jam vacuum bristles. Attempting to rush inevitably sat me down to unwind frills under the foul odor of a burnt motor. There were countless attachments to keep track of, and being tall, my back used to hurt prematurely from hunching over the hose into uncomfortable positions, to clean beneath furniture and into the creases between stairs. Needless to say, vacuuming became my least favorite chore. I preferred ironing, folding, or doing laundry. When I got my own space, I went so far as to sweep what little carpet I already hated to lay; when will someone make affordably heated wooden floorboards?! Ironically, washing dishes is my favorite chore to date, and I was never asked to do it as a child.

Before all of my relationships went to hell, we always agreed as a couple that I would wash our dishes everyday and she would vacuum our place every week. Even as a bachelor, I like a clean sink. Especially after breakfast, after my first sip of water and before my morning shower, I feel the most refreshed pouring water over my hands while soaking dishes and utensils. Everything gets soaked, utensils get wiped first in two alternating strokes with a soapy sponge, rinsed off, and place in a rack to dry. Dishes follow a similar pattern, then pots, which occasionally require extra scrubbing. Quick household hack: I routinely use a rolled up bit of foil in place of steel sponges. My self-admitted dishwashing flaw is constantly running water during the entire procedure. I hate piling soapy dishes on the side, while my skin dries, until I rinse them all off. Most people, especially older folks with a history of limited resources, scold me for the waste. The very sound of running water is soothing though, as are the feeling of my wet hands, so much that I can’t imagine wearing bright yellow rubber gloves, nor can I imagine not applying a moisturizer afterwards. Maybe I really just like washing my hands, except that wouldn’t explain my disdain for dishwashers or the concept of pre-washing.

Still working on my house husband resume, and my original offer still stands for my future wife. I also give great massages, I’ve been told, if you like strong hands.

Internet Marriage

You’re getting married? No? You’re engaged? Not exactly? Your boyfriend proposed and you’re undecided? Oh, then after a week of negative marital comments, you finally rebuffed him? Quite the announcements to make on the internet. I may just be old-fashioned, probably too old-fashioned for a world where women publicly crush men, between updates expressing a desire to be a better person.

Ironically enough, many men wish death upon me – *50 Cent Spotify Radio* – by death, I mean men have suggested setting me up with this very woman. Little do they know, we already met and went on a single date; I’ll confess that she is quite commendable as a person, even by my stringent standards.

Again, I’m probably old-fashioned, the notion of starting a family, with the right woman under the right conditions, appeals to me; on the other hand, it no longer surprises me to meet women who wouldn’t want any parts of a husband or children. I’m sure there are many factors involved with any case that I will remain ignorant of; even in this instance where I fail to relate. From my perspective, what I do understand is it would be unreasonable of me to socially share such a personal situation, or gauge the response of uninvolved parties for such a personal decision.

An early editor of mine suggested that I call out the person in question, I’m under the impression that would imply I have a problem with her actions. This isn’t a judgment, this is my commentary of an event that played out on my newsfeed, let’s not get extra and instigative for ratchet’s sake. For all intents and purposes, I’m happy for her, especially if she’s happy with her decision and its execution. I’m definitely old-fashioned, the words *hopeless* and *romantic* also come to mind. Best wishes to the new schools of romance.