Oh, oh!
Nothing was said. Nothing needed to be said.
My wife had bought two decorative baskets that spoke louder than words.
Their message? “You have to hang us up.”
Notice the “you” part?
This always happens.
She buys something, and I’m left to hang it, assemble it, or stash it in the storage room to be forgotten. The last option’s my favorite.
The problem is, she’s always buying things like this. Our storage room is a graveyard of unhung, unassembled, stashed-away stuff.
It drives me up the wall, and I tell her so.
“Why don’t you hang your own baskets?” I ask.
“Because that’s your job.”
It is.
So many tasks like this fall to me, and I’m not sure why. Probably because I’ve always done them. No matter what anyone says, marriage isn’t about an equal split of responsibilities.
Nothing is, for that matter.
Some people are good at certain things; others aren’t. Some find joy in tasks others dread. And some—well, some just offload what they don’t want to do onto those who’ll grudgingly get it done.
Like hanging decorative baskets.
“It’s not that I’m unwilling,” I tell her, “but I’d rather do it on my own time.”
She nods, conceding the point.
“Besides,” I add, “we already have a pile of baskets just like those in the storage room.”
She nods again.
“So why do you keep buying them?”
“I’ll keep buying them,” she says, “until you hang them up.”
Almost Iowa 