You Call It, You Clean It
My husband and I are royalty; we are the king and queen of Household Chicken. And when I say “Chicken,” I don’t mean the delicious crispy kind flavored with secret spices. No, this is the kind of chicken that tests one’s courage and daring. A contest of wills played out until one party flinches and the other does a victory dance in their face.
There are a number of versions of Household Chicken – here are just a few of my favorites:
Poop Chicken
Fortunately we are past this one, but the memories are still vivid. It begins with the smell – just a faint whiff, then an increasing wave of stink that eventually becomes so obscene that your eyes start to water. Poop chicken is not for the faint of heart. Serious Poop Chicken contenders have mastered the ability to finish a complete sentence without gagging or even pausing for the slightest moment to regain composure. Even when the offending child waddles by like Baby Huey, clearly toting a few extra pounds on the backside, neither contender will relent. It’s usually only when the child’s hand starts to creep down into the diaper that someone caves with a snappy “OH ALRIGHT – I’LL GET IT!
Dinner Chicken
While dinner is generally my responsibility, there are plenty of days when I’m not up to it and the Hub will pitch hit and cook or call in. Sometimes, however, when life has taken its toll on both of us, we lay like slugs on the couch, silently hoping that the other will take care of dinner. Eventually some child will amble by muttering something about being hungry and we’ll do everything within our power to deflect. “Get a piece of fruit. Go ahead, watch some television. Here’s twenty dollars.” Usually the loser at Dinner Chicken is the one’s whose hunger overwhelms their pride. That would usually be me.
I know it sounds crazy. It is crazy. Sometimes more work and energy goes into the avoiding than might be spent on the actual chore itself. Take Dirty Dish Chicken, for example. We have become masters of continually rearranging the dishes and stacking them in a clever manner so as not to draw attention to the fact that every dish we own now sits, unclean, in the sink. Or Toilet Paper Chicken, in which we will OPEN the new roll of toilet paper and BALANCE it carefully next to the holder, all the while bypassing the empty roll in front of us.
Why do we do this? Is it pride? Stubbornness? Sloth? Hmmm…..I think I’ll sit back and wait for the Hub to answer first.