Jackpot

My husband doesn't like doing dishes. Correction: he loathes doing dishes. But he likes to help out around the house, especially if that night's dinner was tasty (it always is - you didn't doubt that, did you?), so the after-dinner dishes are his unofficial job. As much as I love to have a little less housework to do, I don't mind dishes so much, so you can bet that if I take pity on his poor soul and do them myself, I milk it for all it's worth.

"You know, those dishes kind of wore me out. I sure could use a foot rub."

"Gosh, it's been a long day. I would love it if someone were to put in a movie and bring me a bowl of popcorn."

"I love that you love that I keep a clean house. Know what else I love? When you put the kids to bed while I play Tetris on the iPod."

Of course, sometimes I dispense with the gentle hints and get right down to business.

"I did the dishes. Scratch my back."

"See those clean dishes? You owe me big time."

"Remember this morning when the kitchen counter was all cleared off because I did dishes last night? Yeah, I hope that good feeling lasts, because the kids drove me crazy today. I'm leaving and I won't be back until they're sound asleep. Leftovers are in the fridge."

Luckily enough, he's pretty okay with it most of the time. Like I said, he really hates doing the dishes. Come to think of it, his second most dreaded chore, paperwork, is also something I usually do. He totally hit the jackpot when he married me...

But you know what? So did I.