Housework actually sucks (poo fart bum).
It’s been said that; in order to get people to read your blog, your post has to, in someway, help them to kick proverbial butt. For that reason I expect to see the virtual equivalent of a tumbleweed rolling across the desert.
I’m unsure as to how this post helps anyone except myself.
But it feels good, and I need to get it out. And all the real life people in my world are probably sick of hearing me harp on about it, so I’ve had to find a new audience to air my dirty laundry to.
To the people assume that stay at home mums automatically evolve from Daria as a teenager into some Stepford Wife when they get married and have a child, I urge you, visit me. I will shatter your illusion.
I don’t hate all house work equally however. There are five things, nay six. That make my skin crawl (can we just dwell for a minute on how powerful that metaphor is. My skin is crawling, how absolutely vulgar). Vulgar – Yet apt.
I never match them. I hate them. I have two boxes of odd socks that probably aren’t actually odd. And even more to the point, they’re not even mine. They’re my husbands. He usually waits until he’s gone through them all, and no more are coming through the boomerang dirty washing (that’s faulty cause the never actually come back), and he’ll spend a Saturday sorting them (all forty pairs) (not exaggerating). Or he’ll just go and buy more. I hate socks.
Also, if you are gonna comment and say ‘buy all the same pair so you don’t have to worry’. I’ve thought of that. After we were thirty pairs deep.
2. Grimey sink plugs
Spew. Remember when a plug was just a plug and you could sneakily poke any bits too feral to retrieve down the holes and no one would ever know. Well to the genius that ruined that and put a catcher in the plug: Why did you think that was a good idea?!
3. Emptying the nappy bin
Lawd have mercy.
4. Cleaning the shower
I’ll let you in on a secret. I wear a shower-cap. Something I just assumed everyone did until I got married and moved in with my husband and he was like ‘ehhh what is that’. There are few things in this world I find more challenging than wetting my hair unnecessarily. Read that line again and screen shot it and send it to your best friend in a text message with the heading ‘first world problems’. That’s what I would do if I were reaading this.
I hate that I have to get down on my haunches and scrub grime off the floor while my shower cap is battered by water, and it creeps under the elastic. Ahhh I’m getting goosbumps typing this.
5. Cleaning the oven.
If you read this post a while ago you would’ve seen I said it’s a man’s job. I stand firmly by my sexist remark. I have no intention of burning my bra any time soon.
Sorry, just no.
Thanks to the three people who read this post. When I check my stats later this evening I’ll feel truly validated that you took the time to witness my confessional. Please tell me what you hate doing and hopefully I can permit you the same level of satisfaction that comes from havin’ a good whinge.