The key to a happy marriage is knowing your place.
My wife and I have certain pacts and treaties that make our relationship work. For instance, she rakes the leaves and I clean the house. She helps the kids with their math homework, and I’m in charge of social studies and language arts. She loves room-temperature watermelon (yuck), and I like pan-fried Spam (the mere thought of which makes her gag).
In math we’d be reciprocals; in philosophy the yin and the yang. It works for us. These little deals we have are like the balancing poles we both use to negotiate the high-wire act of modern family life.
Early on in our relationship we discovered that I should stay away from the laundry and she shouldn’t touch the dishes. I would mix colors and whites in the wash, which made her go bonkers. Meanwhile, she would always follow behind me and rearrange the cereal bowls symmetrically in the dishwasher, which made me crazy.
One day, I fumed, “From now on, how about I do the dishes and you do the laundry? Deal?”