Wednesday, September 21, 2011

Should the man kill the bug?

Brock and I share bug eradication duties in this house. Don't tell Brock, but honestly, I really don't mind killing the bug, and I do it all the time when he is at work. But when he is in the room with me and we spot a creeper in the bathtub, I make a big deal out of him "rescuing" the family from the tiny intruder. Why? Because I am letting him wear the pants. Isn't that nice of me? Never mind that he is afraid of spiders and they really don't bother me (unless they are excessively large and hairy...or shiny, I think shiny spiders are actually more frightening than their hairy cousins...) I tell myself that he likes saving his family from the serial killing spider in the drain.

There is sort of an unspoken duty assignment in this household. I wash the underwear and everything else (all of the time), he takes out the trash (most of the time), and so on and so forth.  I believe it keeps our family in balance. Never mind that Brock is the actual key to the smooth sailing, as the man is so mellow that I sometimes check his vitals when he sleeps. Again, thank God he doesn't smoke pot. He would be in a coma. 

So there is something stuck in the garbage disposal. I don't know what it is, but when I turn it on I get a face full of spray that is a delightful mixture of water, last night's spaghetti and this morning's oatmeal. Yummy.

And I have no intention of sticking my hand into that greasy hole and searching out the culprit.

Why?

Because yesterday Thing 2 shit on me at the chiropractors office, an appointment which I had to wake BOTH sleeping children to get to on time. Did you get that? THEY WERE BOTH ASLEEP AT THE SAME TIME. We all had adjustments, which we all three needed, and as soon as we got home, Thing 2 fell directly on his head in a glorious hands-free noggin landing, which is obviously an awesome activity after a spinal correction. And I needed to do laundry, but the machine was broken, which Brock "fixed" by shoving a screwdriver into a hole and leaving it there. Mysteriously, that method of "fixing" was not effective, so I had to stand in front of the washer with the lid open and manually depress a button. (If anyone starts in on me about doing laundry in the creek with a bar of lye and a washboard, I warn you that I can hit a human head with my shoe from a solid 20 feet away.) Then I forced myself to play barnyard animals with the Things, and Thing 2 gleefully chucked a large plastic horse in my direction and hit me in the eye (I have clearly passed my target hitting abilities to the next generation). Then I put a 16 month old in time out, which is always smooth sailing. Oh and Thing 1 woke up screaming with pain in his ear, so I kept him home from school and put him on antibiotics and listened to him whine. Then I cleaned inside and out and it still looks like a herd of buffalo ran through my house and patio. Then I drank a glass three sips of fucking rancid wine that I purchased because it had a buffalo on the label (I like buffalo). Then I cleaned the toilet and no, I did not shower before bed. And I never got to exercise either, just like the previous seven days. And I killed three spiders, four bees and picked up dog poo from the yard.

So, I vote that Brock sticks his hand down the slimy steamy trap and fish out whatever is stuck. Screw the bugs, I can handle those dudes. I think the man should clean the sink drain, because that stuff REALLY creeps me out. I also vote that he empties the mysterious containers of uneaten leftover food from the refrigerator.....

What things do you take charge of in your house? What about your significant other?

13 comments:

  1. I used to be an exterminator, and inspector in my old career. I am a bug killer extraordinaire. So, of course I am the one who has to kill all the bugs in my office. A bug comes waltzing in unawares, the other girls scream in terror, and I take care of it. the garbage disposal, no problem. but, I hate washing dishes. Hate it! I'm such a boy.

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  2. I don't mind killing bugs either, but there is no way my hand is going into the disposal!

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  3. I once found a giant cave cricket (you want some freaky pictures, google that shit) in our pantry. My (female) roommate was out of town, so it was either kill it myself or not eat for 3 days.

    I really, really wanted to pick not eat for 3 days, but hunger got the best of me.

    So I put my riding boot on the end of a 2 x 4 (so I could stay as far away from the bug as possible), duct taped it on, and used the contraption like a jousting stick to smush the bug. So. Much. Bug-splatter.

    Even the sound of regular crickets makes my teeth grind, now. All crickets must die.

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  4. "...thank God he doesn't smoke pot. He would be in a coma." Ha! People have said the same thing about me.

    I have this thing about what I call "dead food" which includes whatever's left in the disposal. This is why I keep a box of latex medical gloves in the kitchen. They act as a barrier between my skin and the nastiness that used to be dinner, but I can still find that aquarium rock that somehow found its way down the drain.

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  5. @Heather Rose: I am now traumatized. I think it was the amount of bug splatter.

    @Cornfed: there is NO WAY my hand is going down that drain. Also, I totally buy wine based on the coolness of the label and they're always rancid.

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  6. I have to kill all the bugs in this household too. Erik squeals like a little girl ready to pee her pants on the rare occasion a bug creeps into our apartment. Wuss.

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  7. @Kelly- I LOATHE washing dishes too. Worst house chore ever, right bhind cleaning the shower, that is....
    P.S. It does not surprise me that I have an ex-exterminator amongst my readers. Ex-exterminator.....hmmm... you could really make some money with that one...
    @Paula- I know! Slime trap! Ugh!
    @Heather- That may be the best bug killing story ever. I'm with Phoenix though, feeling a bit traumatized over here.
    @Rebecca- Dead food is the perfect term! That is exactly what that shit in the plastic containers in my fridge is too!
    SO many uses for latex...so little time.
    @Phoenix- Remind me when we meet to send the men to the store to buy the wine for us. We would end up with the cutest labeled, worst wine on the planet.
    @Sluice- Awesome! Erik would perish at my house. We are overrun with bugs. For instance, I have already "decorated" for Halloween by allowing the two GIANT wolf spiders to keep their ginormous web infrastructure on the window by the front door. Why? Not only am I classy like that, they are eating a shit ton of mosquitoes, and I hate those effers more than I hate the spiders. It is the circle of life, baby.

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  8. That's the ONLY thing I miss about having a husband: someone to scrape my slime-encrusted hairballs out of the shower drain and bust out the mad vermin-fightin' skillz.

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  9. @Jen- What about the windsock? I couldn't even write that without snickering.

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  10. I refuse to dust. But neither does my husband. So yeah.

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  11. Damn, I commented on this earlier and I think it got eaten. Did you erase it Johi? Do you hate me? I'm getting a complex now . . .

    What I said was . . . I hate doing the dishes and am always the bug killer in the house. (Kelly, are you . . . me?) My kids always yell at me to "get the bug mommy. Kill it!" when they see a stink bug or fly. I am masterful with a swatter.

    Also, there is no way I would stick my hand down that disposal to clear out that gunk. That is all the man's job. I think I've seen too many horror movies because I have a possibly unwarranted fear that the thing will start up on it's own accord and chop off my hand. I will however put a wooden spoon down there to try to free up the goo, never using that spoon again of course.

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  12. @Floozy- then you and your husband would both be very comfortable at my house.
    @mistyslaws- No, I did not erase any comment! I would only erase douchy comments and thus far, none of my readers are douchy. Blogger has had a lot of problems with commenting. Sorry...
    And I have the same (maybe not so irrational) fear of losing my hand.

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  13. Lets see, the husband goes to work, something he likes to remind me of... Oh, not every day but often enough that I've started responding with 'So that's where you disappear to during the day"
    I do everything else. EVERYTHING ELSE. Bugs and garbage disposals included. Because my husband whining, or making up excuses, or simply not doing it is far worse than anything I can find in the disposal. The goo washes off.
    Although I am also terrified of it inexplicably turning on and eating my hand. Literally terrified - I shut the friggen breaker off before venturing forth.

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