Don’t tell my husband this.
I write to avoid housework.
Yes, I see the dirty dishes in the sink and on the counter. Yes, I know I have diapers in the washer and laundry in the dryer and laundry on the bed waiting to be put away.
But as long as the kids are fed and watered and educated and happy and the bills are paid and the phone calls are returned and the errands run, I figure I can let the other stuff slide.
And I do. But what kind of lesson does that teach my kids? I should be doing my chores before I do something more enjoyable, like writing. And when I’m working on a difficult article, I use chores to avoid writing. How messed up is that?
And in the summer, it’s so easy to use the pool and the park and to get together with friends and all sorts of other activities to avoid doing ANYTHING at all.
I guess it all balances out somehow, though, or I’d be living in a cockroach-infested home.