Aside from the obvious differences, men and women ‘see’ things quite differently. What is priority to one, matters little to the other. For example:
I wake at 7:00am, make my way downstairs and prepare breakfast. I eat my fruit, drink my coffee and and eventually take fruit and coffee up to my wonderful husband. He is sitting up in bed watching the news and is most appreciative of the ‘delivery service’.
I sort some laundry and make my way downstairs with the wash then I tidy up the kitchen and head down to the freezer to defrost something for dinner. Upon seeing no further breakfast is forthcoming, my husband eventually gets up and comes down to make some toast.
I head upstairs where I get dressed and make the now empty bed as I plan out my day. My husband has come back upstairs, gets dressed and moves to his chaise lounge chair, located just outside the bedroom, to read the paper.
I prepare my grocery list and head out for my walk to the grocery store, list in hand. Two hours later my grocery cart piled high with staples, I call my darling husband to pick me up. It takes a few moments for him to answer because he dozed off reading the paper.
Upon returning I put away the groceries and empty the garbage cans in the kitchen and washrooms. As I see my husband heading upstairs, library book in hand, I remind him that we are having company for dinner this evening and suggest he help me prepare the house. He disappears into the garage and when I next check in on him I see he’s washing the car. (Ok, not necessarily a priority for my dinner party but work is work) He eventually comes in satisfied that he’s done his part and asks, ‘what’s for lunch?’
I make us both a quick sandwich, finish cleaning the kitchen and bathrooms and prepare to mop the kitchen floor, stopping to change the laundry on my way. My husband has now moved to the bedroom so he can watch tv under a blanket – he has a chill.
After the floors are dry I put everything back into the kitchen and run the vacuum through the other rooms, tidying up as I do. Then I hastily set the table. Noting from the local weather forecast that the clear and mild weather isn’t to last until tomorrow I determine this is likely the best time to put out our holiday lights so I head into the garage and spend the next 21/2 hours sorting Christmas lights and stringing them onto our bushes. My husband comes down to make a cup of coffee, steps outside briefly to declare the lights I hung adequate, stops to admire the shiny car, then returns to his chaise, coffee and ipad in hand.
I come inside, having completed my outdoor work, fold my 2nd load of laundry and head upstairs to put things away. It’s late afternoon now and my chores for the day are mostly done so I jump into a shower mentally planning the strategy for my dinner menu. I remind my partner in passing that he still needs to set up the bar and he nods. By the time I get out of the shower my sweetheart has moved back to the bed to watch tv but now the noise of my hair dryer overpowers the sound so he decides this is a good time to go downstairs after all .
Clean and dressed I eventually come down to the kitchen to prepare dinner for our guests only to find the love of my life hovered over the kitchen sink madly scrubbing, and golf balls are drying on towels all over the counter. I note the time and suggest perhaps he finish up this vital task another day, after all it’s almost December so it’s unlikely he’ll need those balls for at least the next 4 months. I remind him also that we have dinner guests arriving in 2 hours and that we really should be getting ready. Oblivious to my sense of urgency, my sweetheart grudgingly packs up his golf balls, putting them and his cleaning supplies on a side counter (so all can see his efforts?) and heads upstairs to shower.
In between chopping, peeling and cooking, I update my banking, paying a few bills, etc. My husband finally comes down showered and dressed, and declares it’s after 5:00 and it’s been a long day – time for a cocktail. He sets up the bar in preparation for guests, repositions his bucket of balls so that they’re front and center, and settles into his chair to await our guests while watching the Golf channel.
Our dinner guests arrive and we enjoy a lovely evening. They comment on a delicious meal, lovely table, and even note how pretty the Christmas lights look as they leave. As we tidy up the dishes and head up to bed I notice my husband is unusually quiet. The evening was a success so puzzled, I inquire as to his pensive mood to which he replies, “All that work, the preparation, the toil, and they didn’t even notice how clean my golf balls were!”
***Disclaimer – no husbands were hurt in the making of this blog***