Division of Labor

Some people might slap me for even having a husband that's willing to go to the grocery. We alternate the chore on Sundays. One of us takes the girls to church. Taking William to church at the moment is about as peaceful and prayerful as having someone stick your backside repeatedly with a straight pin. So, while one goes to church for a peaceful hour, the other takes Wm to the grocery. This isn't such a bad chore, because the grocery is usually not very busy yet and like most males, Wm's affections can be bought with the right food.

At any rate, this morning, dh and I discussed who would take which role this morning. It is tempting to take the church-going role. Though it was my turn, dh offered to do the shopping.

Okay, I agreed, if you'll do the groceries the way I do groceries. What did I mean? Well, before going, the dishwasher must be unloaded, loaded, the refrigerator cleaned (to make room for the new groceries), and the diswasher started. When he returned, he was not to deposit the groceries on the counter like a fisherman who's returned home with a string of trout that he expects the little wife to clean and fry up for dinner. No, he would have to put them away, too. Just like I would. Dh rapidly agreed that he'd go to church. And, bless his soul, he did help me put away the groceries.

I'm off now to watch the girls ride in a mini-competition while dh cuts grass and Wm plays in the dirt. Now there's a good division of labor!