DOMESTIC BLISS

I Clearly Warned Him That I Hated Housework

But he moved in anyway

Literal translation — vide (empty) grenier (attic) Rough translation — clear out your junk (author’s photo)

So this morning, after the visiting nurse had administered treatment to my right knee and brightly assured me that in another month or so the surgical wound would probably close — it’s been almost 12 weeks since surgery — I dragged myself up from the swooning couch, where I spend hours in tearful self-pity, and dragged out the vacuum cleaner.

My long-suffering partner has mostly taken over domestic chores for the past couple of months. As much as I dislike that sort of thing, it seems only fair that I make an effort. And I do. But, then the various body parts — lower back, right knee, start rebelling, sometimes the left knee even joins in, and my efforts are superficial at best.

“Finished?” he asked as I turned off the vacuum cleaner after a quick swipe around. I said I was. He immediately jumped up from the couch and opened the vacuum’s plastic container. I immediately left the room. I knew what was next. The pitiful amount I’d vacuumed up was only a fraction of what he picked up when he vacuumed.

Domestic discord ensued.

“Maybe you should do it yourself then,” I said.

“That’s what you want, isn’t it?” he replied.