It's true. It's not something I'm especially proud of, but it feels good to finally admit it out loud. I'm out. Please be kind. I hope this doesn't jeopardize my man card when I say this, but I actually know how to wash clothes, and dishes, and iron shirts, too.
Strange thing is, my neat-freakishness wasn't inherited. My parent's house was always clean, but they never worried about every little thing being in its place. And my childhood was back in the day when it was the women who beat the clothes on a flat rock down by the river....no wait, that was Little House on the Prairie.
What I meant was, the women did the housework, and the men did the yard work. My dad instilled in me a fear / awe of our washing machine. We both looked at all the little dials and knobs on top like they were the controls of a 747. (Make that a DC-6....this was back in the '50's.) We didn't dare touch anything.
It wasn't until I was married and began my hobby of working / volunteering at airshows that I learned how to use a washing machine. I would come back from a show with my dirty laundry, splotched with oil and dirt and stink, and my wife would refuse to even touch them, much less wash them. So, with my stubborn gene being challenged, I dove in.
Let's see....clothes in here (duh)....soap on top....let's go with "normal" wash....hot?....cold?....split the difference....GO! Hey. It worked! Clean clothes. Methinks mom (and wifey) had us bamboozled all those years.
Over time I figured out all the nuances of washing and drying clothes. Then I moved on to ironing shirts. On those occasions when I needed to look like a civilized human, it was me ironing or going without. (NOTE: Most of my shirts to this day are "wash 'n wear", whether the tag says so or not.)
During my bachelor years I really hit my domestic stride. I had a housekeeper (still do), but things can get pretty messed up between cleanings, so I learned how to vacuum, clean the wood floors with this special little mop thingy, learned which detergent didn't leave spots on my plastic Dickey's BBQ and Fuzzy's Taco's cups, etc.
By the time K came along my domestic skills were hitting on all 8 cylinders. I could cook enough to keep from looking emaciated, put everything away in it's proper place, dust, scrub, and spit shine....she thought she'd hit the lottery!
I like to keep her thinking that way. ;)
Have a great weekend everyone.