So You Think You Know Bath-time?

So the wife left town yesterday afternoon for her annual business trip to Las Vegas. That’s right. Business. Las Vegas. I know. She will be home Sunday night and until then it is just me and the wee one.

Seeing as how I can count the number of baths I have given Annie on one hand, I asked Holly for a refresher course Wednesday night. Keep in mind that when Holly gives Annie a bath, I usually see that 20 minutes or so as an opportunity to do some dishes, laundry or (more likely) just sit and read a few pages in peace and quiet. 20-30 min later, out comes a squeaky-clean baby! No big deal, right?

Oi. I had no idea.

First there is the drawing of the bath water, then the laying out of gear: The towel, the toys, the big plastic cups for rinsing (since Annie cries at the sound of the running tub faucet). Then there is the changing of the diaper and the prepping of the child. Then the scrubbing and rinsing and washing the hair, then play time . . . on and on it went. The drying, the massaging of scar-minimizing ointment onto Annie’s feet and back – the wife told me how she prays over Annabelle’s body as she rubs in the lotion . . . and on and on . . .

I was reminded how much we all take each other for granted so much of the time. For me, bath time was just that – give the critter a bath – what’s the big deal? The big deal is in the care the wife takes and how it has become something of ritual and how Annabelle loves the way the wife handles it all – laughing and squealing and splish-splashing all the while.

Of course, it’s not like I don’t do my fair share. To my knowledge, in 17 years the wife has never mowed the lawn (okay, maybe once). There are certain chores around the house that naturally fall to the wife and there are certain chores that naturally fall to me – and then a whole host of chores that are up for grabs and are done whenever either one of us has the time and energy to squeeze them in.

My point is, there are times when I or my wife come home, take a look around and wonder to ourselves (what exactly did he/she do all day? This place is a mess!) What we fail to notice is that the floors have magically been swept, the weeds have miraculously been pulled, countless areas of the house have been trimmed, spruced, fluffed, sorted and folded. Yeah, the dishes haven't been done but the child is clean and fed and there is something to be said for that.

I think most of us are guilty of coming home from a long day at work, seeing a pile of dishes or laundry and then proceeding to grump around the house in our own little self-righteous pity party.

Marriage is not 50/50 – making sure that you do your half and they do their half – “and by Jimminy it will be a cold day someplace hot before I dust that living room again after all I do around here!”. You might as well start labeling food in the fridge.

Marriage it is 100/100 – giving all you can – holding nothing back – and trusting that your spouse is doing the same even if you can’t always see it.

Wednesday night was a good reminder for me that there is a helluvalotta stuff that my wife gets done that I am blissfully unaware of – just as I am sure that to some degree the reverse is true as well.

So my advice to you is the same advice I have for myself – the next time you come home tired and beat and areas of the house (inside or out) are in disarray, marvel that even though you haven’t fed the dawg or cat in months, it has somehow managed to get fed (not to mention the crummy fish) – even though you haven’t done a load of laundry in two weeks, you still have clean clothes to wear – even though you have not taken out the trash barrels to the curb, paid the bills, trimmed the hedges, balanced the budget, done the grocery shopping or weeded the planter boxes, somehow all these things seem to take care of themselves – then find your spouse and wrap you arms around them and say “thanks”.

Then roll up your sleeves and get on dem dishes. Lawd knows they aint’ gonna warsh demselves . . .