A German woman has divorced her husband because she was sick and
tired of him cleaning all the time. Now I ask you what the heck is
wrong with that woman? Is she insane? Who does that? Does she even
know what I would give to have anyone
– man, woman, child, alien creature from Mars – come and clean
my house?
A German woman has divorced her husband because she was sick and tired of him cleaning all the time. Now I ask you what the heck is wrong with that woman? Is she insane? Who does that? Does she even know what I would give to have anyone – man, woman, child, alien creature from Mars – come and clean my house?
Does she not understand that the sparkle of clean toilets is much more… well, sparkly when someone else has scrubbed them? I swear I just don’t get this – who wouldn’t want his or her house cleaned by someone else? But apparently the woman (who was not named in news reports) hated the fact that her husband rearranged the furniture, cleaned the house and kept everything neat and clean. And the final straw was when he knocked down a wall and rebuilt it because it was dirty.
Okay, I can understand the last part being a bit annoying. Possibly, coming home and finding your walls knocked down is a bit obsessive. I mean, I could just see Harry’s face when he walked in from work and walls were missing. I’d have a tough time explaining, “I couldn’t get the fingerprints off the wall, so I took a sledgehammer to it.” Yeah. That probably wouldn’t go over very well.
But I have to say, as chief cook and bottle washer in the Sontag house, seriously, worse things could annoy me than somebody taking over the household chores. Really. I cannot imagine the absolute luxury of someone else scrubbing the toilets. Or, oh, cleaning the shower. Oh yeah. That would be incredible.
Kind of makes me feel all weepy inside to think of just stepping into a clean shower first thing in the morning and knowing that it’s all clean and shiny because somebody else scoured it.
If we get to make our own heaven, I think that’s what mine would be. Endless showers in a clean bathroom scrubbed by someone else.
Or possibly being able to eat my weight in chocolate without gaining a pound. Kind of a tough decision actually. Hopefully I have several more years to make up my mind about that one.
But anyway, back to the German woman. I just don’t get it. I mean, I’ve been married for nearly 24 years (I was practically a toddler when we wed, if you must know).
Now, I don’t want to stereotype anyone – but my husband is part German (shocking, I know considering our last name). And he is also male.
And I can tell you based on my experience with German guys (limited, in all honesty, to Harry and his family) and guys in general (somewhat more limited than I would ever have admitted in high school), they don’t clean so much. And by that, of course, I mean they don’t clean AT ALL.
I don’t think Harry or his father or Junior even know where the mop is kept. I certainly know that Harry doesn’t know that we actually have two mops.
Or that I have different brooms for indoor sweeping and others for outdoor cleanups. Come to think of it, I don’t know that Harry actually understands that I do sweep outside.
Now yes, at one time Harry handled the yard work. And by handle, I mean that he hired someone else to do it. But now that Junior has grown into the child laborer we always hoped he would be, he has to mow the lawn.
But the kid doesn’t do toilets. Frankly, I tried to get him to clean them, but I swear to you, the complaining just wasn’t worth it.
You should have heard that boy. Junior acted like I had asked him to clean up a crime scene – although perhaps in his bathroom, that is the equivalent.
Seriously, though. It was not worth listening to all the complaining and moaning and threats of calling Child Protective Services because he was being asked to do dangerous work without proper eye protection. It’s a toilet, for Pete’s sake. Put some cleaner stuff in it and swish it around with a brush. How difficult is that?
So I don’t understand the German divorce. You know, if the guy was having an affair or maybe celebrating Oktoberfest for the entire year or something like that, I could empathize.
But divorcing a guy because he cleans? Yikes. I have only five words for the former wife – can I borrow your ex?
