Watching my husband clean is like watching a toddler take on the worlds easiest Easter egg hunt. "There's something you can put away!" "Where?" "Right there!" Looks around cluelessly. "Where?!"
Or watching a puppy play with the shiny light on the wall (have you ever done that? It's hilarious!) He scans the room about six hundred times, trying to decide where to start. Or, trying to avoid where to start.
Or a teenager being punished. Lots of loud sighs.
And for some reason, a phenomenon I know is linked to more men than just my husband, he thinks vacuuming ends the cleaning. Even if the cleaning isn't done, if the vacuum has been used, cleaning is done.
I think I'm just going to mow the lawn first next time and say all the yard work is done.
Or set the table and say dinner is done.
Or go to sleep and say...you know what...is done.
But seriously, he's a good man to at least try. After many down-on-my-knees tears-in-my-eyes pleadings. Still, at least he's doing it. While I sit on the couch and supervise (blog). It's important to maintain a look of, "I asked you a long time ago to do this. Don't try getting out of it. Don't give me that look."
AND the kids are napping. He doesn't know how easy he's got it!