the new deal

So, after six years of living together, I have finally accepted that Matt is just plain bad at doing the dishes. I know that I’ve griped before, but this time we have found a solution: I do them instead. The mood in our house has since gone from confrontational to blissful.

The old way:

Me: “Matt, I swear, if you don't do the dishes tonight, I will dump them in the backseat of your car.”

Matt: “Go ahead.”

Me: Undecipherable growling followed by stomping and chocolate eating.

Now, the counter is miraculously clear every night. Matt spends his newfound free time sitting in his new recliner watching old episodes of Friends and real estate infomercials. I’m not sure that the new deal is really fair for me, but I figure I’ll make up for it by spending some quality time with my Visa card.