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They say "Payback's a bitch" but that's not always true. Sometimes it's the sweetest thing ever. There's nothing quite like finally being able to repay a favour that you've been the recipient dozens of times.
We have a very simple rule of chore division in our household: If you cook, you don't do the dishes. Practically speaking, what this amounts to is that 95% of the time, I do the dishes. (I'm sure it seems to you all like I cook more than one night in twenty because just about every time I do, I post about it here.) More than once, though, I've gotten up to find that the dishes I casually left sitting around the night before have been taken care of. Sometimes![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
monshu is very explicit about it. "Don't worry about the dishes," he'll tell me after a party that he cooked hours for has left our kitchen a shambles.
Tonight I was able to turn the tables for once. I went to the store for vegetables and ham hocks, then carved what meat I could from the hambone and started making a stock. I strained this, sautéed onions, then added celeriac, carrot, parsley root, and split pigeon peas (a.k.a. toor dal). When this was almost ready, I made grilled cheese sandwiches with some aged Irish cheddar. And after we had eaten, I sent the Old Man back to bed and cleaned up the mess myself.
"It's been a strange weekend," he said at dinner. He's spent most of it sleeping. Usually that means he's sick, but he's got no real symptoms beyond fatigue. We did manage to get out to Andersonville for brunch at Sather's and a little shopping (Gethsemane got its herbs at last!) but other than that we haven't left the house all weekend. I had movies to watch and tried to get the Scoutmaster to come over and watch them with me, but he stood me up both nights.
It's been good weather for staying in. Last night we even had a fire in the fireplace, which seemed strangely inappropriate as the clouds broke towards sunset and golden light flooded the room. Regardless it was still raw and damp outside and I didn't regret at all my decision to hunker down in the den and watch Scream on On Demand.
We have a very simple rule of chore division in our household: If you cook, you don't do the dishes. Practically speaking, what this amounts to is that 95% of the time, I do the dishes. (I'm sure it seems to you all like I cook more than one night in twenty because just about every time I do, I post about it here.) More than once, though, I've gotten up to find that the dishes I casually left sitting around the night before have been taken care of. Sometimes
monshu is very explicit about it. "Don't worry about the dishes," he'll tell me after a party that he cooked hours for has left our kitchen a shambles.Tonight I was able to turn the tables for once. I went to the store for vegetables and ham hocks, then carved what meat I could from the hambone and started making a stock. I strained this, sautéed onions, then added celeriac, carrot, parsley root, and split pigeon peas (a.k.a. toor dal). When this was almost ready, I made grilled cheese sandwiches with some aged Irish cheddar. And after we had eaten, I sent the Old Man back to bed and cleaned up the mess myself.
"It's been a strange weekend," he said at dinner. He's spent most of it sleeping. Usually that means he's sick, but he's got no real symptoms beyond fatigue. We did manage to get out to Andersonville for brunch at Sather's and a little shopping (Gethsemane got its herbs at last!) but other than that we haven't left the house all weekend. I had movies to watch and tried to get the Scoutmaster to come over and watch them with me, but he stood me up both nights.
It's been good weather for staying in. Last night we even had a fire in the fireplace, which seemed strangely inappropriate as the clouds broke towards sunset and golden light flooded the room. Regardless it was still raw and damp outside and I didn't regret at all my decision to hunker down in the den and watch Scream on On Demand.