SNIPS OF SNAILS AND PUPPY DOG TAILS

Men, boys, or anyone of the male persuasion, please stop reading right now.

No, I mean it. Stop. You are going to get your tender feelings hurt if you keep reading.

Okay - but I warned you.

Get your hankies out then, dudes.

WHEN A WOMAN CLEANS THE KITCHEN AFTER DINNER:

- She unloads the dishwasher and takes care of the clean dishes.

- She scrapes, rinses, and places all plates, glasses, silverware in an orderly fashion that will ensure a thoroughly complete washing by the machine.

- She runs the garbage disposal to ensure no back-up when the machine runs.

- She fills the machine with detergent, sets it on the proper cycle for the load, and begins it.

- She washes by hand as necessary any large pots, pans and lids that cannot fit in the washing machine.

- She dries and puts away the aforementioned pots, pans and lids.

- She wipes down the stove, the counters, the kitchen island.

- She sweeps the floor, and wipes up any spills.

- She empties the trash, and takes it out to the container in the garage or on the street..


WHEN A MAN CLEANS THE KITCHEN AFTER DINNER:

- He sticks as many dishes as will fit, regardless of what is already in the dishwasher or if they are possible already washed, higgly-piggedly on top of each other.

- He leaves any large pots, pans and lids that do not fit on the counter or the stove.



- He doesn't even think about running the garbage disposal, checking the dishwasher settings, or taking out the overflowing trash.



- And if having a really good day, begins the dishwasher.



What prompted this sexist post?

It wasn't even washing the dishes.

My husband, bless his sweet little heart, browned the hamburger for our sloppy joes while I was driving home from the doctor's appointment yesterday.

And when I, the female in the house, did the dishes that night, I didn't understand why the skillet was so incredibly encrusted and difficult to clean.

Then I realized something.

He had obviously browned the hamburger and stirred it... maybe twice in the entire process. Burning the pan.

Why are men so difficult... nay, impossible to house-train?

SCRUBBED VS. SUPERFICIAL

I have a neat-freak for a daughter.

But just one.

My second daughter has an apartment that makes a male college freshman's dorm room look immaculate by comparison.

We have a continual battle of things like taking out her trash... after TWO WEEKS of accumulation. She insists she can't vacuum her carpet.... because you can't SEE it under months and months of growth of pizza boxes, dirty laundry, papers...

Okay, let's get off that subject, I'm beginning to nauseate myself just by my own description.

But my other daughter is...

Well, let me just say that she is being driven slowly and irrevocably insane having to pick up after a husband, a two-year old and a four-year old... and a 53 year old when I come to visit.

My son-in-law is not a neat freak, but a PRECISION freak. His undergraduate degree is in mathematics, and he is all about measuring and right angles and spacing. He still is a normal male-type of slob - I mean, why pick up clothes that you are just going to put back on again in the morning, and stuff like that - but he also adds baggage (literally) to my oldest daughter's compulsion(s).

And I'm not at all certain where I stand.

Well, actually I do, I'm just not quite certain I wish to make it public.

I am neat about some things... I have to have the kitchen cleaned and the trash emptied before I go to bed. And I have to make my bed... at least before I can crawl back into it.

But a lot of things... ensuring that laundry ends up in the dryer instead of slowly growing mildew left in the washing machine - vacuuming the carpet when the overall color is being determined by the fur shred by my animals instead of the original dyed hue - dusting furniture and ledges instead of relying on our regular winds to blow everything clean when I leave the windows open...

Well, let's say that I do not allow myself to be distracted or encumbered by housework.

Ever.

And I am notorious for doing what I call "overall and sweeping brushstrokes" - which anyone who would like to be polite would call quick and dirty - and if you are honest, fast and of doubtful quality.

Over the past week, I have painted three interior doors some very... definite colors and striking contrasts.

They look marvelous... from a distance of at least fifteen feet.

Maybe just a little bit more.

ASKING A BLIND MAN FOR DIRECTIONS

The adult male human population has doubled in my household since January.

And the amount of dirt, crumbs and empty soda cans has quadrupled. Maybe sextupled. No, let's go with octupled (I don't know if that is the correct term, but it appears... cleaner, no pun intended).

Somehow I believed that my son, now older and supposedly wiser, could easily been shown how and thereby WOULD conform easily to my higher standards of cleanliness.

I seem to have forgotten everything from when this little boy first came into my life in 1981.

Being a liberated woman of the 70's, I was determined to raise liberated children.

And it worked great... with the girls.

They had Tonka trucks, bib overalls, sports and the constant adage of 'whatever a boy can do, a girl can do better.'

Then I had my son.

Even without a male role model around (his father was absent five months of his first year - military responsibilities), this cute little baby would immediately take the head off any doll handed him - any item shaped remotely like a stick would instantly become a weapon.

Boys will be boys, regardless of how genderless I tried to keep things.

So as of today, the following actions have not, repeat, have not provided the outcome that I would expect from my girls:

- Leaving polite memos on the kitchen island; they are not read.

- Piling the scattered stuff he leaves around the house in a BIG mound in front of his bedroom door; he walks right over it without a glance.

- Sitting him down and civilly discussing the matter with him; in one ear and out the other.

The next step?

It may very be well be eviction.

Stay tuned.