My Boyfriend Helps Out Around the Apartment: Part II
After the vacuuming incident, I was pretty much resigned to the fact that Boyfriend was just not going to be a good helper. I started referring to him as "my toddler at home" when I was out with friends, because that is what he acted like most of the time: "Now where do we put our dirty socks? In the hamper remember? Go ahead and put them in there, good boy!"
However that Boyfriend of mine is just full of surprises and I came home one afternoon to find him very chipper and proud of himself. I knew right away something was wrong.
"I washed the bathtub for you today!" he said, swanning around humming to himself as he attempted to do his own laundry.
"You did?!" I said, incredulously. "Like, you used the tub cleaner and everything?"
His swanning around came to an abrupt stop, his face got that "cannot compute" look that it so often has.
"What bathroom cleaner? We have special stuff for that?"
"Uh, yeah. What did you use then?"
"Dish washing liquid." He said this as if I was the idiot for not thinking of it. There was definitely an implied "Duh!" on the end of the statement.
"You can't wash the bathtub with dish washing liquid! That's for DISHES!" I was flabbergasted.
"Why not? It's soap isn't it? Just be careful not to slip."
How this boy made it through twenty-four years of his life without figuring out that dish washing liquid is not what you clean a bathtub with is beyond me. I know his mother must have cleaned; their house is always very clean when I go over there. How he didn't notice that she wasn't using Dawn to clean the tub is beyond me.
Speaking of dish washing, one afternoon a few weeks ago I left Boyfriend a note just asking him to do the dishes, empty the dishwasher, etc. Normally he can somewhat handle this task. I usually find forks in with the mixing bowls and cookie sheets in with the dinner plates, but he's not very good at matching games so I let that slide.
on this particular afternoon, I came home to find the sink empty and the dishwasher running. Ah, success. I reached into the cabinet for a drinking glass. The first one I pulled out was dirty. Whatever, our dishwasher sucks, it happens. The next one I pulled out had orange juice residue on the bottom. Strange. I checked the plates. Yep, there was a bowl with oatmeal caked on the sides.
"Boyfriend?" I called, holding the offending dishes in my hands.
"Nyeahhggh?" he answered, which is his standard answer for everything from "Do you want a cheeseburger?" to "Would you like a root canal?"
"Did you check to see if the dishes in the dishwasher were clean before you put them away?"
"Oh, well, they were dirty. You put away dirty dishes. How did you not notice this?"
"Nyeahhghh." He shrugged. I sighed.
Lesson learned: If you're having dinner at my house, make sure you're eating off a clean plate.
Because this was a day late, you get a bonus photo:
I'm sorry for the crappy quality. It's from my phone and I couldn't fix it. I made him this shirt. He DOES spill. Hmm, I smell next week's story!