If you twisted my arm and made me come up with a complaint about my lovely bride, Trixie, I would resist for as long as I could, then probably confess that, perhaps…maybe…she could take a smidge more pride in her work when it comes to keeping house.  In fact, I have always thought that one of the things that made us work so well together was how gracious I was in terms of tolerating this shortcoming of her’s.  It is a rare instance that I would even mention it.  That’s just how I roll.

It is not that she is a slob, per se, but there just always seemed to be more to do, houseworkwise.

I was so gentle and understanding on this issue for several reasons:

1. She is only human.  I can’t expect perfection in everything.
2.  There had never been an official division of labor that expressly assigned her certain tasks – just a general understanding.
3. Not only does she work full-time, but she works very hard.
4. She did seem to be trying.  Like she wanted the house to be organized and neat but, it just wasn’t her bag.  I couldn’t, in good conscience ask for more than that.
5. I enjoyed being magnanimous about it.  Felt good to be the bigger person, so to speak.
6. Frankly, neatness is not high on my list of priorities.  Truth be told, I could have probably worked on this issue within myself.  And, I didn’t want to be a hypocrite.

So, through my silence, patience and understanding, we have made it work.

But, now, after 5 months on the road, I made it back home. I hadn’t bathed since South Dakota.  But, that’s O.K., she was away at the beach, for work.  Yes, this tireless life partner of mine has given up her weekend, without complaint, to work a booth at a trade show or whatever.  I knew this.  And, because she has been working ’til 8 p.m. every night lately, going home and collapsing in bed, I was braced for the old homestead to be a disaster.  Oddly…it wasn’t.  In fact, it was neat as a pin.  Weird.

Years ago, someone wrote an article entitled, 15 Life Hacks to Make it Look Like You’ve Got Your Shit Together where the author tells you to do stuff like,  ‘…get the biggest bowl in your house and fill it with some fucking lemons.”  And, “…cover your couch with a bunch of throw pillows with some meaningless words on them” to my favorite, “…pretend you can’t remember what wine you have.  I think there is some Cab Sav in the cupboard”  Anyway, it was like Trixie had read this article like it was an operator’s manual.   She had even removed the doors to the kitchen cabinets.  There was nowhere for clutter to hide.  I was impressed.  I had no idea what brought about this change in her otherwise…I don’t want to come right out and say “lazy nature”, so I will leave it out.

Because I fancy myself to be a humorist, I briefly entertained the notion of claiming that maybe she was always like this but that I had personally added so much to the workload that she couldn’t keep up.  Haha.  But, I find the funniest stuff comes from true-to-life stuff.  I couldn’t just go making shit up just for a laugh.

Besides, now that I have been home for a whole day now, as I look around, I see the place isn’t nearly as tidy as I had initially thought.  In fact, yeah, kind of a mess.  My eyes must have been playing tricks on me.

After several hours this morning of waiting for a meal to magically appear before me (like it used to when I sat in my big chair in the old days) I figured I would have to take matters into my own hands.  I went to the kitchen and opened a can of tuna.  Theretofore invisible felines suddenly appeared before my eyes. I don’t know how many cats she had when I left, but I am pretty sure it wasn’t this many.  They started moving about frenetically.  They were jumping and rolling as they circled me.  It was like a feeding frenzy in a shark tank.  I yelled and swatted at them.  They hunkered down and continue to swish their tails sinisterly as they circled me.

I drained the water from the can and they leapt up onto the sink and started lapping at the run off.  Even that asshole Binx was in on it.

Eventually, I managed to give them the slip and eat my lunch.  I had to leave the kitchen in disarray , but that is Trixie’s fault for having cats.  But, I am sure I will get around to cleaning it up after my nap.