"This IS about us," said Corb yesterday, during those infrequent moments that I came out of our big bedroom, wrapped up as I was in finishing up my taxes.
"What, what?" I asked, remembering the conversation. I had made a mental note to ask him about it, but it had slipped out of my head, fast as quicksilver.
"It's an article from some magazine," he said. "About a same sex couple, and how they break up chores around their house. The guy who's writing this reminds me of you."
I narrowed my eyes. "Why is that?" I asked, wary.
"Oh relax, it's good," he laughed. "The article talks about how things are different when you're in the kind of relationship we're in. You don't split the chores up the way other couples do. You know, men do this, women do that. It sort of becomes what you like doing versus what your partner likes doing. Or as this guy puts it, 'He gets to do the things I hate to do.'"
"And what do you hate to do?"
"Things like paying the bills, balancing the checkbook. Those are the things this guy does." I grinned to myself. He's right, but then again, those were things that Josie hated to do, too. On the other hand, as I was doing my taxes yesterday, Corb had a great handle on how to navigate through some of the Turbo Tax questions, so I do think he's selling himself short, just a bit.
He's right about establishing who does what around the household, though. Corb tends to work in fits and starts. He's a much better cleaner than I am. When he gets his mind to it, he will work for hours on a room, and make it far cleaner than I could ever possibly hope to make it. The toilets will be scrubbed until it shines, the living room will look like something out of Home and Garden.
I don't have those sweeping highs. However, I tend to be better at the day-to-day stuff: washing dishing, folding laundry, putting away clothing, disposing of trash. My tasks are smaller, less grandiose, but more frequent. Some of that is by necessity: a lot of the mess comes about because of the kids, and it's hardly fair to ask Corb to pick up after them all the time.
Still, when I was with Josie, our tasks tended to fall into more traditional realms. I dealt with the outdoor stuff and finances, while she was the cleaning Nazi. When I moved out, it was quite a shock, learning how to have to cook for myself (which I hate), to do all my own laundry (which I love), to decorate a room (which I enjoy conceptually, but in practice, wish I could do better).
One thing that hasn't changed, however. Dishes. Nothing makes me feel better than a clean sink before I go to bed. That's a holdover from my father, except that, rather than nagging my wife/husband to get it done, I like doing the job myself. There's something about a sparkling sink that just plain makes sleep easier.