The Piler

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My husband used to do something that took me a while to wrap my head around. 

I didn't know how to appraoch the situation for some time, and finally we sat down and had the discussion about his piling- and ever since things have been significantly better.

Tonight I sat with my husband watching a confusing episode of LOST.  My mind was wandering and I asked him pointedly "how long do you think you can put up with me not having a job?"

His immediate response: "as long as it takes."

Clearly, the question confused him.  But I definitely feel like I'm on loser status.  I wake up at 10:00.  I stare at the wall and wonder what to do with the day.  Yes, true- I manage to get stuff done.  I am aggresively seeking employment, but I don't feel like I am contributing to society- or my household.

And my husband reminded me that for quite some time he didn't have a job and it was me that supported him.  Those first months when he immigrated from the U.K. and I would give him a list of things to do before I came home from work each day.

On that list was cleaning, because nothing refreshes my aura quite like a clean home.

And when I would come home I would see him beaming with pride at his handiness- and I would stare confused at the piles that were pushed up against the wall.  This was my Lloyd's effort at "cleaning".

And of course it is no fault of his.  I won't even blame his wonderful mother.  The fact is, as an only child Lloyd didn't do a whole lot of tidying in his youth.

How to wash a load?  He didn't know.  Where to put the books? How to hang the clothes by genre and color, facing forward? He could not fathom it all

But he didn't realize that putting clothing, papers and miscellaneous knick-knacks in piles constituted a clean home.  He would wear the largest and most endearing smile on his face as he greeted me at the door, so proud of his work.

I let him pile things for a a while, and then we had "the talk".  The talk had to be repeated, and to this day there are moments when I have to give clear instructions on 'what-goes-where', but.... things are significantly better these days.  

My husband is wonderful, and many a day he will surprise me with the gift of a spic-n'-span home.  He no longer piles.  He "gets it" a bit more.

Sure, sure, sure.  He has replaced "piling" with "hiding", but our guests don't know that my bra might be in the dish-washer.  What they see is a 'clean' home- a home that my amazing husband has tidied and smiled upon with pride.  That big, beautiful proud smile.


Comments

Lesley said…
Don't get me started on the subject of men and cleaning. My husband didn't know how to wash a load, either, or that cleaning the counters and sweeping the floor constituted cleaning the kitchen. But he's gotten much better. :-)

And you *are* contributing to the household, you're just contributing in a different way now. Keep your chin up. I know you'll find something!
March 5, 2010 at 12:56 PM
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