Waving The Red Flag

I tried to warn him. I really did. But Mr. Ex didn't want to listen.

From the get-go, I explained that life as he knew it would never be the same again. Yet for some strange reason, he bought a ticket on a train that's sure to wreck every time. All I have to say is he is a brave, brave man.

While J-Fed was no saint, I was hardly an angel myself. I have tons of quirks, almost too many to list. I guess the biggest one is the whole "rushing" thing. It drove J-Fed absolutely batshit. Whenever something would happen or something would break, it was because "I did everything in a hurry." News flash J-Fed, if you did almost everything while your partner was on a permanent vacation, you'd be in a rush too. Two kids... Two dogs... A high-stress full time job... Running a household...

These are all things that cause even the most well-balanced individual to "rush."

I don't think Mr. Ex really believed me about my hang-ups until tonight. He came home from work and the baby was in the high chair screaming. My six year old was whining about wanting to go over to her grandmother's. Dinner was boiling on the stove. He had been in the door maybe 10 minutes when I asked him to do a huge favor for me -- empty the dishwasher.

We have an unspoken division of labor around here. I cook. He cleans. He appreciates the time I spend in the kitchen so he has no problem cleaning up my mess. The second part of that is I don't really think he likes how I do the dishes. You might be laughing at the notion that there's a wrong way to do dishes -- but there is.

For starters, while Mr. Ex loads the dishwasher in perfect order, the cups and bowls resembling disciplined soldiers, my approach is completely opposite. I shove EVERYTHING -- cups, plates, bowls, lids, cutting boards, knives, spatulas -- into the washer creating one hot mess. I've seen the look on Mr. Ex's face when he opens the dishwasher, sees the disaster and wonders if he should possibly contact FEMA.