Reminded me of a funny story so I decided to stop, sit down, and blog.
Last fall, Todd went out of town for a week and a girlfriend of mine came to visit. I thought it would be helpful to have an extra set of hands. It didn't turn out exactly as I expected, as my friend is childless, single, and lives in a hotel where people cook her meals and clean her room. She was far from helpful in the everyday functioning of the home, but I enjoyed the visit and having the company and felt not the least resentful.
Most evenings, after I finally got the kids to bed, I proceeded to do the usual stuff that would normally have been done by the lucky parent that got out of bedtime duty that night. (Just the basics so that 7 am wouldn't roll around with me tripping over toys to get to the coffee, only to find a sinkful of dirty dishes and two kids ready to make another mess. Nothing fancy like cleaning the floor or scrubbing the tub, just enough to keep my sanity.) As I loaded the dishwasher, cleared the tables, and swept up the crumbs, my friend would relax on the couch with a magazine and a glass of wine.
The day came for my friend to go home, and while driving her to the airport, we had the following conversation:
Her (a massage therapist): My friend S_ has messed up priorities. She would rather spend her money on coloring her hair than getting a massage.
Me: Well, I would rather pay someone to clean my house than get a massage. That would be more relaxing for me.
Her: But, Juliette, you clean to relax!
Me: Go f*** yourself.
I didn't really say that. I just laughed. When my very energetic sister came to visit after that, all she did was relax for hours every day. Our house was so clean! But I did have to complain to my mom that all she was doing was relaxing.
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