Housework may be hazardous to your health
February 2nd, 2008
Did you know I am something of a klutz? It’s not that I lack hand-eye coordination; it’s more that I am spatially challenged. It’s a normal occurrence for me to walk into door jambs and pieces of furniture. I don’t generally sustain serious injuries or anything. I might have more bruises than the average person, but most of the time I just utter an “ouch” and keep going.
Since Annalie was born, Troy has been cleaning the cats’ litterbox and I’ve been doing all the laundry. We were both pretty happy with the division of labor for a long time. I didn’t have to deal with cat poop after changing diapers all day, and Troy got to pretend that the Laundry Fairy visited our house periodically and deposited clean, neatly-folded clothes into his dresser.
Lately, I’ve been finding myself procrastinating on the laundry, particularly folding the clean clothes. I think it has something to do with the fact that our washer and dryer are upstairs, where all our clothes also live. I used to always fold clothes while watching TV in the evening, but I’m apparently too lazy to cart baskets full of clothes downstairs, fold them, and then schlep them back upstairs to put away. So Troy and I renegotiated, and agreed that I’ll scoop the litter every second or third time, and in exchange Troy will fold the clean clothes. I will still cycle the clothes through the washer and dryer and put the clean clothes away. (Troy likes to believe that if you fold the clothes and leave them in the basket or sitting in a pile, the Laundry Fairy will wave her wand and magically send them to drawers and closets. I hate to take that away from him.)
As per our new arrangement, yesterday afternoon I decided to scoop the litterbox. I think both cats had very recently used the facilities, because after a minute or two I had inhaled enough ammonia that I felt like I might pass out. So I decided to walk the five or six steps from the bathroom where we keep the cats’ box to the front porch for a quick breath of rain-fresh air.
The front door was open, so we could enjoy watching the rain through the glass storm door, and as I hurried by, my slipper caught the bottom of the door and knocked it forward. I tripped and slammed the left side of my head into the edge of the door just hard enough to make my eyes water. Troy followed me as I staggered out onto the porch to make sure I was OK. I took a few deep breaths and let Troy help me back inside where I spent a couple of minutes on the couch while Troy finished the litterbox for me.
When I got up, I went to put a new liner in the bathroom trash can. My slippers were wet from the porch, so I slipped on the bathroom floor as I was stepping over the trash can. I hit its edge hard with the inside of my knee, which stopped me from falling.
Head pounding, knee smarting, and still a little light-headed from the ammonia, I returned to the couch to lie down. Clearly I was not meant to do any housework yesterday.
P.S. I’m fine now.
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I don’t mean to laugh at you, but just picturing all that has me laughing at loud.
Clearly, that was a sign from on high that housework was a bad idea. I’m glad you recovered. Bumping your knee is PAINFUL.
P.S.
I am not allowed to do laundry at my house. It may or may not have something to do with the fact that three of my husband’s favorite wool sweaters now fit our 8-year-old and there are bleach splotches on his new black shirt, but there is no actual proof supporting that theory.
At least none that is coming from me.
Ehem.
The Husband does our dishes, I do our laundry. It works well in theory, except that he is more bothered than I am by the piles and piles of clean, unfolded clothes on top of our dresser, and I am more bothered than he is by the piles and piles of dirty dishes on the kitchen counter or the soaking dishes in the sink.
I have a feeling something is going to have to change soon. *sigh*
What… you didn’t get any of that on camera? I hope you’re okay but I have to admit that I am laughing thinking about it. And thanks, you reminded me to go clean Boo Boo Kitty’a litter box tonight (actually he thanks you).
Hee!
I think God is telling you that housework is hazardous to your health.
And mine. For I am as clutzy as you :)
It is official – I’m getting Jeff to do the catbox. I don’t want to hurt myself like you … prevention being worth an ounce of cure and all.
Oh my gosh, you are like me, maybe you are a little right brained….I blame it on that.
Glad you are alright now!
Doea that reason work on the others in the house? I’ll have to try it, if it does.
I am not laughing at you. No siree, I’m not. Poor thing… I’m sure you were a sight to behold! I’m glad you’re OK now… *stifled giggle*
Doing laundry isn’t a problem for me. It’s finding motivation to put everything away. I fold everything and put them in baskets to take upstairs so at least they are not all wrinkly after I take them out of the dryer. That’s good right? Right? So what if it takes a few days for me to actually put the stuff away. I’m not above rooting through the basket for clothes we need. :)
Now look at me… how many fingers am I holding up?
That sounds exactly like something I would do. My husband says I’m a pinball, but I swear corners and door jambs jump out at me! And furniture corners? They’re drawn to my thighs!
Glad to hear you’ve recovered.
Coulda happened to me just the same! I have a less than ideal laundry situation too. I have to go down the stairs, out the front door, into the side door, and across the cold garage. That, my friend, is where my laundry machines are. It’s a lot of ground to cover after I’ve brought the basket up and wonder where my missing sock got to.
Oh, you poor thing! I’m signing you off from housework for the rest of the year!
I routinely have bouts with the vacuum, wherein I wrap the cord around myself, and/or back into furniture I know is there.
(Am very glad you are OK.)
Yea, I have teen-agers that do the “switcheroo”. (moving close from washer to dryer.) Then THEY fold and put away. Okay, there are a few baskets in their rooms with clean clothes in them, but once they are in their rooms it’s not my problem.
Now, how do you get them to put their dishes in the kitchen?
Ditto on the running into door frames and bed corners. I do it ALL the time.
And I bruise easily so it shows up.
I hope your head is a bit better.
Sounds like one of my days… Ohmmmmmmm… Breathe deeply.