**A Note on “Me Time”**
The other day, a mate popped round for a cuppa, and we ended up nattering about life. At one point, I said, “Ill just nip off and do the washing-upback in a tick.”
He looked at me like Id announced I was building a rocket in the shed. With a mix of awe and bewilderment, he said, “Good on you for helping your wife. I dont bothermine never thanks me. Last week, I mopped the floor, and not so much as a cheers.”
I sat back down and explained that I wasnt “helping” my wife. Truth be told, she doesnt *need* my helpshe needs a partner. Im her teammate in running the household, not some bloke occasionally pitching in like its a favour.
I dont “help” her clean because I live here too, and the mess is half mine.
I dont “help” her cook because I also fancy eating, so Id better stir a pan now and then.
I dont “help” her wash dishes because Im the one who dirtied half of them.
I dont “help” with the kids because theyre *my* kids too, and being their dad is the job description.
I dont “help” with laundry because those socks arent magically folding themselvesand theyre *my* socks.
Im not “helping out at home.” I *live* here. This is my house too.
Then I asked him: When was the last time *you* thanked your wife for vacuuming, washing, changing beds, bathing the kids, cooking, tidying, and the million other things she does? And not just a mumbled “ta”I mean proper, over-the-top praise: “Bloody hell, youre amazing!”
Funny, isnt it? You mop *once* and expect a medal… but why? Ever stopped to think, mate?
Maybe because our blokey culture taught you this was “her job.”
Or perhaps you imagine it all just *happens*, no effort required?
Well, try praising her the way youd want to be praisedsame enthusiasm, same gratitude. Step up. Be a proper partner, not a housemate whos just there to eat, sleep, shower, and scratch *certain* itches. *Live* there. Its your home too.
Real change starts at home: lets raise our sons *and* daughters to know what being a true teammate really means.
