Damned by Faint Praise: A Clarification

It occurs to me that I inadvertently failed to give sufficient credit to MLB in yesterday’s post about sharing housework.

In that post, I implied that her doing the cooking was no big deal because she doesn’t do it that often. Nothing could be further from the truth (the big deal part, that is; the frequency is actually irrelevant).

MLB is an excellent cook, and she tells me that she enjoys cooking. When she does a home-cooked meal, it’s not hamburger-helper and instant mac-and-cheese. The truth of the situation is that she carries a very heavy workload in her capacity as a financial analyst. It’s not unusual for her to leave the house at 7:30 a.m. and not return until after 6:00 p.m. She also serves on a couple of local boards that demand a lot of her time; last night’s meeting went until almost 10:00 p.m. — and it started at 5:00. So when she gets home, it’s always her call as to what our dinner strategy will be. If she’s up for cooking, wonderful. But if she’s not, that’s great, too. (And, occasionally, she’ll offer to cook and I’ll gently suggest that it might be better if we go out…after three decades of marriage, you can tell when rest is in order.)

I know. It would really be great if I’d just learn my way around the kitchen. There are so many reasons why that’s just crazy talk, however. Trust me on that.

Anyway, on a weighted basis, her cooking three times a week is far more significant than all those other things on my side of the ledger.