Me: “I wonder how much it would cost to have someone come over for a couple of hours every morning to clean the kitchen?”
Husband: “Honey, that’s ridiculous you can’t do that.”
Me: “Sure I can.”
Husband: “But then they would see how messy your kitchen is and you would hate that. They might tell other people.” He’s starting to sound desperate at this point.
Me: “Apparently, I’m such a good house faker that it doesn’t matter! Even when I emailed _____ those picture of our messy house, he thought I had made the mess purposely for the pictures!”
Husband: “Please stop the crazy talk.”
Me: “You’re about 65% scared right now that I might do this, aren’t you?”
Husband: “The percentage that I’m scared right now is a bit higher than that. Try 90 – 95%.”
I am now laughing at him. A lot.
Me: “Don’t you just love having me around? I know all of my great ideas really keep you on your toes.”
Husband: “I do love to have you around, but your great ideas are not really the reason.”
Me: “Come on, you know you love the daily sock hunt!”
Think heavy sarcasm now.
Husband: “Oh yeah, I Iive for the sock hunt. Why don’t you hire someone to come in and find and fold all of my socks?”
Me: “Very funny. I’m not done with my kitchen cleaner idea. Sweet dreams!”
Why do I hate cleaning my kitchen so much? It seems to me to be an abnormal amount of hatred. And I think is really the root of my dislike of cooking. I’m sorry again to my college roommates for my kitchen cleaning avoidance. Thanks for still speaking to me!