Hostile Takeover

It has finally happened. I have reformed my husband so that he finally notices the dust, the dirt, the mucky kitchen sink. He even notices, "Hey, it smells like cat shit around here." Then, he actually picks up some cleaning instrument and does something about it! It only took one year of dating, one year of engagement, and nearly three years of marriage and three moves to do it.

Isn't that what every wife dreams of? To have a husband who realizes the dirt and also does something about it. But let me tell you a little secret. I hate it! Because now I don't get to be the clean self-righteous one. He has started to realize that a lot of that messiness I groan and mumble about comes from me! So he then yells at me to quit leaving my stuff all over the place. I'm the one who never puts away my shoes, my makeup, or my keys. But when I was the one doing all the cleaning, I got to bitch about picking up my stuff. (On a side note, I just saw another hubby beating the bathroom rugs out on a neighbors balcony.)

Well, at least I can still revel in the glory that my "clean" is cleaner than his "clean." Like, I clean the tile grout. I don't forget to polish the stainless steel tea kettle. I clean the dust out of the grooves that are carved into my desk. I dust the light fixtures.

But really, why is so much of my identity tied up in how clean our apartment is? Is it progress that I have helped my husband internalize some of that to? Or is it a huge step backward? The cats really don't seem to have an opinion on the issue. Unless, that is, you don't scoop their box for a LONG time. Then they poop on the new rug. Maybe that's what I should do the next time hubby puts off the cleaning for about 6 weeks when it's his turn.