Sick Day....

All I took was one day off......and the house fell apart.

I don't get it.  I took my NyQyil then went to bed hoping to sleep away what ailed me, and then somebody threw a wild party (I think it was a hairy animal theme party) as I lay unconscious.

There was dirt and tracks of mud and leaves throughout the entire house.  The dishes were piled up and scattered about and the clothes hamper went from empty to an incredibly large, mountainous pile of clothing....I could just make out the snow cap through the clouds floating around the top of Mt. Linen.  I believe someone had used their soiled underwear as a flag to mark the peak.

Holy fish paste --- I was only out of commission for one day.  How did this happen?

Well, I will have to admit, that part of it is my own fault.  Since taking over the household chores I have approached the job as no different than if I were still working full time.  (In fact, I am working full time, just not getting paid)

As I have grown older and honed my skills as a responsible adult (well, as responsible as someone as goofy as myself can be) I take great pride in my occupational duties.  I never want to put myself in a situation where someone implies that I am lazy.  I can't handle the thought of not being viewed as anything less than dependable.

So, every time Karla lifted a finger to cook or to clean, I always asked the same question, rather defensively I might add:  "Hey, why are you doing my job?"

Now most people would have gladly thrown the dish towel on the kitchen counter and said, "Oh, I'm sorry.  I'll go read a book or something and let you finish up."

But Karla, by nature, can't help but work.  Her family is quite possibly the hardest working group of people I know.  They don't have hobbies like watching football or going fishing; their hobbies always involve working on something,  whether it be putting in a new bathroom, or building fence, or putting in long hours at the many businesses they own.  They simply aren't happy unless they are working.  If you were to look up the word workaholic in the dictionary you would find a photo of Karla and her extended family.  (The photo would probably take up at least two pages since they are a rather large Catholic family)

Here's a good example of what I'm talking about --- Karla's uncle Bob loves to mow his lawn because it helps him "relax".....I find that slightly psychotic.

Anyway, every time I ask Karla why she is doing my job, she always comes back with the same answer.  "I live here, too."

Yeah, I guess you do.

Call me paranoid, but every time I see Karla working around the house I feel like she is picking up my slack.  I start to wonder what my performance review would look like if I were to ever get one.

As long as Tera isn't giving the review, I should be all right.

"Dad, I have given you a less than satisfactory mark for cooking.  You have ninety days to bring this up to satisfactory or I will have to let you go.  Can I go jump on the trampoline now?"

I will say that I am thankful, as are the kids, that Karla simply can't stay out of the kitchen; she loves to cook just about as much as I have grown to despise it.  It was starting to get old every time one of the kids would look in the fridge, find something they want to eat, and then ask "Who cooked this?"

Hell, Toby doesn't even bother to ask anymore, he takes the safe route and makes himself a smoothie.

But I don't blame them for asking, I don't want to eat what I cooked either.

You know that phrase "don't look a gift horse in the mouth"?  That was the very first thing I thought of when I awoke from hibernation and found the disaster that lay before me.

Let me back up a bit.....The reason the house was a mess was because we were busy that weekend (Yeah, I know, shocker) and so there wasn't much time for cleaning.  (A fine reminder of why I left my full time job in the first place)

The other thing I thought of was that the next time I see Karla working around the house I should be a little more appreciative of the help as opposed to getting defensive and worrying about getting "fired" from my job.

Oddly, I don't feel the same way about the kids working around the house.  In fact, I love putting the kids to work as a way to show that they need to do their part as a member of the family.

It's just that with Karla being a salaried employee who more than occasionally puts in long hours; I would be happy as a clam if she would just come home, plop down on the couch and watch a movie or read a book while the kids and I take care of the house.

But that will never happen, for it's just not in Karla's nature to relax; and after getting sick and receiving some help from her, I appreciate her more than ever. After all, "Many hands make for light work."

Getting sick has also made me appreciate single parents more.  At least when I fall ill I can take solace in knowing that I have a spouse who is willing to roll up her sleeves and help out while I am on the mend.

A single parent actually has two full time jobs.  With one job, said parent can call in sick and at least have some hope of someone taking over their duties until they return.  The other job is a lot more complicated, you can only expect so much help from your kids, and it will take you longer to dig out of the mess that was created when you so thoughtlessly and selfishly fell ill.

So, in retrospect, getting sick provided a valuable learning experience for me.  Don't get me wrong, I will still encourage Karla to kick back and let me be responsible for the home, but I will never again get defensive and ask her why she's doing my job.  Because there are those times when a helping hand is needed and should be greatly appreciated.


And hopefully I won't get sick again for a very long time........