The House Husband

Lately I’ve been feeling very, shall we say, “domestic.” It hit me this afternoon as I was putting laundry into the drier. Let me play out the last 24 hours or so for you, but first let me preface it by saying that K (the roommate) goes “out of town” fairly regularly. Sometimes she’s out of town for work, sometimes she’s just across town house-sitting for her parents when they’re gone on business. Regardless, it seems like once or twice a month she’s not at the house for a week or more at a time. This is one of those weeks.

So today is trash day on my street, so last night I gathered up the trash, put it in the trash-thing, and rolled the trash-thing out to the curb. Before bed I decided to start the dishwasher, as it was getting reasonably full. At some point this morning I realized that K had washed a whole bunch of towels, but had never put them in the drier… they were getting a bit musty so I set them to wash again before I headed out the door for work/class. It was while I was moving K’s towels from the washer to the dryer and putting the dishes away that I realized how freakin’ domestic I was being.

It’s not like this is an isolated incident, either. I often find myself folding K’s laundry (though not randomly, only when I’m getting ready to do my own laundry), taking out the trash, putting away dishes, etc… now don’t get me wrong, these are all things that the roomie WOULD do, I just happen to get to them first because I don’t work 50 hours a week.

I could turn myself into quite the house-husband if I just rid myself of the rent and bills and marry the roommate. It’s a brilliant plan, I think.