Friday, March 22, 2013


Hmm... as my hands dry from the third .. or is it fourth?.. time washing dishes today, I can't help but wonder how I became domesticated so quickly. 

Think of me - generally - as having more the habits of a guy (I know, guys, you're probably better than me, so forgive me the insult).  For the last three years, I've lived alone.  Answered to no-one, had few guests, and so chores were, well, optional.  Except laundry.  Don't worry, I did laundry.  Although I did learn how to make certain items of clothing last longer.... (I also own many, many, many pairs of underwear.. oops TMI)

Make my bed? Why? I was gonna be back in it later that night.. Aw hell, who am I kidding? If I was at home, I'd be back in it within a few minutes, getting out usually just to go to the fridge or the bathroom or something.  I was the only one using my toilet, and I had no pets (for the most part), so there was no reason to put the lid down.  My bathroom was spacious enough it wasn't as if I had things above the toilet waiting to fall in.  As long as I could get back and forth to the fridge and the bathroom and the front door, who really cared if there were clothes, or books or other things on other parts of the floor?  If I had plenty of clean dishes (and I had plenty of sets of dishes) what was the rush in washing the dishes?

Well, I wasn't necessarily that bad...

Oh, wait, that's right, my girl reads this, I can't get away with that...

But it's been just under two weeks here, and I have been quite domesticated.  If I'm still in bed when she leaves in the morning, I make the bed.  (Usually not until about 3 PM or so, but still...).  And if she's here, I often help her make it.  I've learned to put the lid down on the toilet because the bathroom is, shall we say, cozy.  I don't always get it right.  I've learned to pull the shower curtain shut before drying my towel, so that it won't get mildewy on the bottom.  And, I've learned how to wash dishes after every meal (or right before she comes home, whichever works...), and put the dishes away, even. 

I have been domesticated. 

It's not necessarily a bad thing.  I'm not sure if I ended up living on my own again any time soon (and I'm not hoping for this, understand) I'd probably quickly revert to my slovenly ways.  Because I understand very well what the motivation is for doing them now.  (Hopefully you haven't eaten any time soon, because I might make you gag....)  The motivation is "Love". 

Now, it would *PROBABLY* be more loving if I didn't point it out every time she came home, "Hey, babe? Look, I made the bed!  You know what this says?" She's started to roll her eyes at this point, and frankly, I can't blame her... "It says, 'I love you!'" 

I do these things because it makes HER happy.  And that's reason enough.  And that, my friends, is how I have become domesticated. 

P.S.  I'm sure I still have quite a ways to go... but I am a work in progress at least... ;)

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