Multitasking Women

Okay, so Jim and I had a ... we'll call it a "disagreement" ... last night because I am reading a book called "Between Two Fires" by Laura Esquival, who puts forth some interesting prose relating to women and society. Even though women are now active and vital participants in the workplace, the following is still true:

"I will ruminte, in silence, on my rancor. I am always assigned the responsibilities and tasks of a servant. I must maintain the house impeccably, clothing ready, the feeling rhythm infallible."

And I had an example at the ready to fully illustrate this to Jim. I made dinner last night, then changed clothes, got the boys ready, and went to school for the spring choral concert. I put the leftovers away, but placed the pans in the sink. I knew when I got home that I would have to wash the pans. Yes, Jim would be home, but it would never occur to him to wash them, even though he would probably have to pass over them half a dozen times between the time he got home and I got home. So, yes, as expected, he was sitting in his chair watching TV when I walked in the door. Yes, there was a cocktail for me in the freezer, but the dishes were still in the sink.

Evidently, this was not a good example to use because what he heard was me telling him that he never did a damn thing around here and just sat on his ass all day long. I won't use quotes because that seems ... well ... sophomoric. I think my reader will be able to distinguish his words from the tone in my writing.
I tried and tried to find a picture on Google Images of a man doing it all. Or perhaps the title of a self-help book for men who have to work 8 hours a day, then cook, clean, wash, dry, iron, vacuum, dust, scrub ... you get it. I'm sure my good reader will not be surprised that such a picture was none-too easy to find, and there are no such self-help books. Unless, of course, there may be a memoir of a single father, whining about his lot and begging for sympathy. Nothing so practically useful as a "How I Did It and You Can, Too" book.

I loved this cartoon in particular. Isn't it the truth? Stove on one side, washer on the other. Work, work, work. Yes, I can occasionally take naps during the day. And I do that on my lunch time as opposed to leaving the office for lunch. He was quick to use that against me last night. And God forbid I would have the television on if he calls during the day.

He tells people that I "work" at home, using those little finger quotations.

All I was trying to get across to him is that when he thinks of the weekend, he thinks of mowing. Maybe skimming the pool. True, he takes care of all of the financial matters, which I very much appreciate since if I did it, we would not have two dimes to rub together. What I was NOT doing was telling him that I do everything around here and he does nothing. I was merely saying that women got the short end of the stick when we went to work. Because nothing changed in the home. Everything changed outside the home, and nothing changed within. That's all.

Of course, we all know that this is what men want us to be:

Add 50 pounds and a bottle of Zoloft and I think you'll be getting pretty damn close.