Emily was fed up with cleaning up after James, I said, laughing as if I were on the phone with you. Honestly, Id rather give him the boot, get a divorce, and finally have a decent tidy house. Then maybe I could even marry him again after the chaos is over! she snapped, arms crossed.
Hold on, love, James grinned, lets not go all radical. Im just sitting here, doing absolutely nothing!
Exactly! You do nothing. And if youre not helping, at least dont get in the way, Emily shot back.
Where am I getting in the way? James asked, bewildered. Im curled up like a mouse in front of the computer, not sending any SOS signals!
Emily pointed at the desk. Mug! she said.
Thats my tea, James chuckled.
And the other one, behind the monitor? she asked, irritation thinly veiled. Ive been gathering all your mugs since sunrise!
Thats my halffinished coffee, James said with a smile. Dont worry, Ill finish it. Im as fond of cold coffee as hot actually a bit more. Ill even carry the mugs back to the kitchen myself, proper gentleman, right?
Really now? Emily raised an eyebrow.
Deadsure! James affirmed. And Ill wash them, too.
Emily sighed, Id love to believe you, but experience tells me youre full of it. Finish that coffee and hand the mug over, quick!
Im drinking tea, not coffee, James stammered, Id hate to mix them
Emily let out a heavy sigh, then stooped to check the mug. If there were just a few drops left, shed be willing to sacrifice them.
James, are you kidding me? she shouted. That mug isnt just empty, the coffee residue is bonedry! What were you planning to sip?
Seriously? James blinked. The flat is so dry! There was coffee here yesterday. Maybe we need a humidifier.
James, what on earth should we buy so you actually clean up after yourself? Emily leaned back in the chair James was perched on. What are you going to do, huh? she whispered, almost in his ear. James! And whats this?
Its a water cup! James replied. You never let me bring a bottle in here, so I have to make do with halfmeasures!
Because the fizzy drinks are for everyone, not just you! Emily shot back. If you put a bottle next to you, youll finish it. Too much soda isnt good for you!
So, a cup! James insisted.
Emily realized shed have to gather the mugs around the computer again. The cleaning was far from over, and she still had plenty to do. As she headed out of the room, she caught James in a bizarre pose.
She didnt waste time. She pulled the chair back, dragging James with it.
Smells like a divorce in here! she declared dramatically.
Its just a biscuit, James said, looking as innocent as possible.
Not even on a plate, just on your lap! And crumbs are already on the floor! Ive just vacuumed! Emilys voice rose with each sentence.
Ill clean it up! James promised.
He tried to brush the biscuit off his leg, but it slipped onto the floor and shattered into a million pieces.
James squinted, expecting a broom, a rag, a mop, maybe even the vacuum to swoop in, but nothing happened. He dared to open one eye.
Emily sat on the sofa, head in her hands.
Im so exhausted, she said, her voice tinged with pain. Four people live in this flat, two of them kids! But the biggest pile of rubbish you leave is you, the grownup, decentlooking bloke!
You should set an example! Im constantly tripping over your mess, cleaning up after you endless mugs, plates, saucers, candy wrappers mysteriously ending up between the couch cushions, crumbs on the table! Have we got an infestation of ants or what?
Ill buy chalk Molly, James muttered apologetically, but Emily didnt hear.
You cant even toss the rubbish into the bin! Is it really that hard to glance and see if its in the bin? If not, just chuck it in! Your back wont break if you bend down and pick it up!
Emily lowered her hands and stared James in the eye.
And that chocolate bar you hid under the pillow? No, Ill never forgive you for that. It was my favourite!
James turned beet red, mortified. He felt a knot of shame and bitterness that his wife was so upset because of him.
Emily! he stammered. Emilydear!
Her hurt turned into steely resolve.
In a week Im off on holiday three weeks with the kids at my mums. If we get back to a pigsty, Im walking out on you, James. I cant put up with this any longer! I finish cleaning, and then I start all over again because of you.
James looked horrified.
Just clear those mugs now and sweep up the biscuit crumbs, please.
James obeyed immediately, though he doubted shed actually leave with the kids for three weeks. He thought she was just trying to scare him.
She did leave! She even showed the return tickets shed bought in advance. James now faced three lonely weeks in a house that felt like a pigsty. The thought was terrifying.
Before she went, Emily made sure the house was spotless and left one final warning:
If its still a mess when you get back, you can file for divorce yourself. My patience has finally snapped.
—
Men have a peculiar relationship with cleanliness.
Some lads keep everything spickspan and even take pride in it. But most dont put tidiness high on their list. Cleanliness is a flexible concept, after all.
A stray piece of paper that doesnt irritate the eye can sit until the next scheduled tidyup, or be shoved under a sofa or chair with a swift foot. Dust on the TV or monitor can be ignored until the sunlight makes it obvious, or until someone decides to write a love note on it. A little sand on the floor isnt a problem if youre in slippers, unless you slip on it at a corner.
And the dishes, mugs, forks, knives, pots and pans waiting by the sink? Thats a whole other story.
Why go to extremes over a single chore? Better to gather everything and make a Herculean effort, not just a runofthemill wash up.
Debates about misplaced items could go on forever. Maybe the trousers on the chair are just staying there for a while. In the wardrobe theyll feel lonely, but theyre fine for now.
James was pretty typical of the mass of men with a quirky take on cleanlinessEmily called him a pig in a whisper. He could cook, fix things, and even tidy up on a whim, but the ideal never quite matched reality.
Hed feel the urge to scour the stovetop, only to find Emily already cooking something else, so hed step back. His bursts of motivation were rare, and Emily often had to prod him when he was in no mood to act. Still, when the moment struck, hed jump in, even if there wasnt much to do.
Overall, James was a good family man. He worked solidly, earned a decent wage, loved his wife and adored his kids. His only bad habit was a penchant for video games, which Emily could easily distract him from when needed.
When Emily made an impulsive purchase, James would smile philosophically, Thats what women do. And when she came home from work in a funk, James always listened, offering a sympathetic ear, even if he never actually saw the colleagues she complained about.
The family was otherwise fine. The one sore spot for Emily was Jamess attitude to tidiness. If he cleaned, greatbut mostly the job fell to her. With two little girls who only helped their dad with games, the whole mess landed squarely on Emilys shoulders.
At the breaking point, Emily decided enough was enough. Either James would learn to keep the place tidy, or shed spare her nerves and stop repeating the same argument over and over.
—
A week before the kids were due back, Emily called James.
Hows it going over there?
Fine, James replied.
Youve got a week, just a headsup, Emily said.
Everythings fine here, he assured.
She rang again three days before they were due, then two, then the day before. She just wanted to remind him that if the house was still a disaster, there was still time to sort it out.
Honestly, Emily missed James terribly. Theyd never been apart more than a week since they wed, and now it was three whole weeks. She warned him not to let things get so bad that theyd have to divorce, even though she was already ready to forgive if the place turned into a pigsty.
No drama, no threatsjust a firm nudge.
When the day arrived, Emily dropped the kids off at the playground, chatted about her trip to her mums, and headed back to the flat.
James, youve surprised me! she called, brightening the hallway.
Emily, you havent surprised me at all, James replied, deadpan. Its just like that joke about a bloke who lives alone for three weeks!
What joke? Emily asked, puzzled.
I survived on one pot and one pan, washing them before each use. One plate, one fork, one spoon all cleaned before I ate. Two mugs total one for tea, one for coffee. I drank water, squash, and juice from bottles that I tossed on my way to work. Thats what youve been preaching for years! And before you got back, I gave the flat a quick vacuumrun. Spotless!
Whats the point of that? Emily asked, wary.
Im just saying the mess isnt my doing, James declared. You love sweets in this house, you and the kids! That chocolate bar you keep nagging me about? You hid it when you were on a diet, and I kept quiet.
But you still leave, Emily began, trying to catch his drift.
If youd stop meddling in my cleaning, the problems would vanish! James shot back.
The next day the flat was a mess again, as usual. Emily started tidying, fully aware James wasnt the chief pigsty creator.
The kids, right? she thought. Theyll have to pitch in too after all, theyre the ones who learn from us.
