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Why do the majority of women in America feel they have the right to tell their husbands what to do and how to do it and feel victimized and abused when there is anything other than than complete cooperation in response while men would never dream of giving orders in this way and if they tried it the response would be "do it yourself" (at the very least).
Um, to prevent food poisoning? Unsanitary conditions? Bug and mold infestations? Lack of clean underwear--white underwear, as opposed to pink from having been casually tossed in with a cheap red bandanna leaking dye? (Hey, it's his underwear.) The expense of replacing good wool sweaters or other costly articles of clothing (mine or his)damaged by being washed in hot water and dried in a hot dryer?
Also, you mentioned microwaveable meals. These tend to be high in sodium and low in nutritional value. If he gets sick, then I have to take care of him. Not that I would mind taking care of him, but, you know, I don't want him dead from a stroke or cancer from all that MSG...especially when I could prevent it by making him good food.
You know, I've learned a lot from my husband. Sure, I could just ignore whatever he says and burn out the clutch by riding it, or shorten the lifespan of the engine by driving at the wrong speed. I don't care how he loads the dishwasher--I just care that he doesn't just do the easy stuff and then act all proud of himself for helping out, leaving me to scrub the pots and pans and handwash his pilsner glasses and special mugs from some conference or other which can't go in the dishwasher, because they accumulate on the side of the sink and take up counter space. Why can't he respect my directions in the same way he expects me to respect his? He takes care of his tools and expects me to take care of them too, which I do; why can't he take care of mine? Your attitude, and so many of your brethren, seems to be that any housework you do, however half-assed, makes you God's gift to women, and we have no right to expect anything more than whatever shitty effort you deign to give us. And, of course, the women's magazines all reinforce this idiotic notion.
I think what I might do, one of these days, is just stick his dirty glasses and mugs in his briefcase and let him find them at work. That might get the point across permanently. Screaming at him like a banshee only works temporarily.
I'm sorry to be so angry about this. It really hit a raw nerve for me. I've been married nearly twenty years, and we couldn't live without each other and get along fantastically ninety percent of the time, but this is his only blind spot.
