Feeling Like It

by Marinka on September 26, 2010

Biopsy update: Normal! What a relief! (Except stay tuned for details about my new secret fear that he biopsied the wrong patch of skin!)

One morning last week, I was loading the dishwasher. And while I was loading the dishwasher, I was singing a happy tune. Except instead of singing a happy tune, I was seething. Because for some reason, loading the dishwasher first thing in the morning makes me seethy.

“You know,” I told Husbandrinka who was enjoying a delicious breakfast, “Wendi had a really funny post about a woman whose husband won’t load the dishwasher.”

“Hmm,” said Husbandrinka.

“And then one commenter said that her husband also doesn’t load the dishwasher but miraculously shows up at the moment she’s about to start it and starts criticizing her dishwasher loading skills.”

“Mmm,” said Husbandrinka.

“Which is what you do,” I said.

“Hrmph,” said Husbandrinka.

“Which is assholey,” I said.

“I don’t know how anyone can reach adulthood and not know how to maximize space in a dishwasher,” Husbandrinka said. Because apparently, dishwasher loading lessons are up there with the right to vote in terms of reaching majority.

And then, as I was about to press “Start” he came up to load his stupid cereal bowl, took a look at the top rack (not code for anything) and said, “You did it all wrong.”

Now maybe I’m just a premenopausal horror show, but hearing you did it all wrong while wearing a fucking apron at 7 am makes me flash forward to the verdict portion of the murder trial, where the jury doesn’t just dismiss the charges against me with extreme prejudice but awards me a Medal of Honor with all deliberate speed.

However because I am so very zen (code for medicated), I ask Husbandrinka why doesn’t he just rearrange the dishes in a proper way and he says… wait for it.

“Because I don’t feel like it.”

Because I don’t feel like it?


If there was ever a verbal equivalent of nails on a blackboard, it’s this.
Like who the hell ever feels like loading the dishwasher?

“Hi honey! Want to go out for cocktails?”
“No, thanks! I think I’ll just load the dishwasher tonight!”
“Maybe after you’re done? We can get a lobster for dinner.”
“Eh, maybe. But then I’d like to re-arrange the dishes in the dishwasher.”
“But I’d really like to spend some time with you! A Broadway show perhaps? A couple’s massage?”
“Look, asshole. We only have our dishwasher for a limited time. Who knows when it’ll break?! I want to spend the time I have with it loading and re-loading. We’ll have time for fun and all that shit later. Got it?”

I think I blacked out there for a few minutes after he “I don’t feel like it” ‘d me. As soon as he went to work (yay that he feel like doing that!), I called mama.

She agreed that this was outrageous behavior and had a wonderful solution.

“This not first time he boast of dishwasher talent. If he is gifted, he should give lecture to children and they in charge of loading. You too old to learn new trick.”
“Mama, that is brilliant,” I said.
“Yes, they can make video. To show their own children.”

Unfortunately, Husbandrinka didn’t take to this excellent plan.
It turns out that teaching the children is “too much trouble.” And he doesn’t feel like it.

One year ago ...

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September 26, 2010 at 7:58 pm

{ 33 comments… read them below or add one }

Cheryl September 26, 2010 at 10:15 am

I just have to ask…”Does my husband live at your house?” We have had the same conversation over here!!!!


September 26, 2010 at 10:21 am

Yeah I probably would have snapped ๐Ÿ™‚


September 26, 2010 at 10:53 am

I’ve had to hold myself back a numerous amount if times from stabbing my husband in the eyes with a steak knife for telling me I loaded it wrong. Let’s pray I always have self-control.


Awesome dude September 26, 2010 at 11:19 am

I just wonder how ego maniacs find each other.


Halala Mama
September 26, 2010 at 12:36 pm

Umm…that morning? Would totally have been the last time *I* ever loaded the dishwasher. Ever. ๐Ÿ™‚


mosey September 26, 2010 at 12:57 pm

I am fuming on your behalf in a perimenopausal haze of disgruntlement.


magpie September 26, 2010 at 4:43 pm

You wear an apron?


Shannon September 26, 2010 at 5:07 pm

Same happens in my house, also.


September 26, 2010 at 5:13 pm

Screw loading the dishwasher, I’m still in awe of you wearing an apron at 7 am.


reiven September 26, 2010 at 5:17 pm

“Now maybe Iรขโ‚ฌโ„ขm just a premenopausal horror show” best line ever. Husbandrinka doesn’t realize how blessed he is to live with a women gifted with such immeasurable self-control.


the mama bird diaries
September 26, 2010 at 5:56 pm

A not guilty verdict is guaranteed.


anna see September 26, 2010 at 7:50 pm

I would have killed him. Aaargh!

So glad to hear the biopsy news!!!! ๐Ÿ™‚


New Yorker September 26, 2010 at 9:38 pm

Sad to say, but I am the one that has the “certain” way in which the dish washer needs to be loaded in our house — eek! Although, I will add that my husband regularly helps with the dish washer and I keep my mouth tightly shut when he “does it wrong”, because I am thankful for the help — any ;).


Miss Cavendish September 26, 2010 at 9:45 pm

There is a funny/poignant dishwasher-loading scene in “Rachel Getting Married” . . . Have you (ahem) seen it?


September 26, 2010 at 9:46 pm

I think the idea of an instructional video — made by him and in which the children have to star — is an excellent one. In filming said video, he will teach them the proper technique, and they will practice it. Also, they will be so busy over the dishwasher that they will not notice you quietly sipping a mojito and reading a novel. There are simply no downsides to this plan.


September 26, 2010 at 10:03 pm

Yay! “Normal!” That must be nice to hear for a change ๐Ÿ˜‰

Funny enough, I’ve asked my husband NOT to load the dish washer bc it infuriates me how inefficiently he arranges the dishes leaving the sink full for hand washing. I hate feeling so unoriginal but it’s nice to know I’m not the only one. Lemme guess, you also have arguements over how the fridge is arranged?


Rene Foran September 26, 2010 at 10:07 pm

Great news about the biopsy.
And thank you for this…I thought I was the only one who lived with a dishwasher stacking specialist.
The instructional video is a must.


September 26, 2010 at 11:05 pm

My 17YO son gave me the EXACT SAME REASONING about a year ago over laundry! I decided I was going to show him how to wash his own clothes. Halfway through the presentation he says to me, “I know *how* to do it, I JUST DON’T WANT TO.” Huh. So I thanked him for saving it for me to do. Because I really, really long to do laundry.


September 26, 2010 at 11:09 pm

I have worn your same apron, and heard those same words from the supervisor. “you don’t know how to load the dishwasher.”

Apparently, though, I do it well enough to remain the only one doing it…


September 26, 2010 at 11:43 pm

ohmyword. my husband and i had this exact same conversation last week. i’m not kidding.
my favorite day though … was when he left on one of his pilot jaunts and called me. i mentioned that i was loading the dishwasher. and he said, “i just started the dishwasher before i left yesterday morning!”
i think i may have said something like, “oh hell no. are you completely unaware that life goes on in this house when you aren’t here? and I am the one completely responsible for maintaining it while you are gone?”
or something like that.


Charmaine September 27, 2010 at 1:03 am

You are divine. Possibly my hero. Don’t take it lightly. I don’t admire anybody…except Braja. When she finds out I’ve been torturing cows…well…she generally forgives me.


From Belgium September 27, 2010 at 1:51 am

Are our husband related?


Annie Coppock September 27, 2010 at 7:37 am

I’m the dishwasher expert around here and I’ll tell you an inside secret: I’m always trying to beat the guy on the commercial who got 61 dishes in! Yesterday I fit in 65! I think all this dates back to when a friend said “no one can load a diswasher like YOU can!”. I think my husband paid her! So I recommend inserting a combination of competative neuroticism and lavish praise into the scenario. If you do it well (and intentionally load the dishes as badly as possible!), he won’t ALLOW you to do it anymore and you will be free to dirty more dishes conjuring mojitos! I think my mom did this the day after her wedding and hasn’t been allowed to load the dishwasher for 42 years! Good luck and glad you will be remaining among the living for now with the positive biopsy results!


cat fur to make kitten britches September 27, 2010 at 7:38 am

It must be some kind of genetic defect on the Y chromosome, because my husband has the exact same affliction — ‘superior loading skills.’ Which is interesting considering the only time he ever actually utilizes those skills is maybe once on the weekend. Maybe. Seems to me like doing it multiple times a day, every day of the freaking week, would give me the angle, but what do I know?

BTW, regarding your biopsy: yay for you! And also, I totally thought I was the only one who had that special brand of crazy. I had some blood work done a few months ago, and when the doctor’s office called to tell me it was all normal, my first thought was: my test results were mistakenly switched with someone else’s! It happens! I’ve seen it on 60 Minutes!


September 27, 2010 at 8:45 am

I was going to leave a hilarious comment about your post, but I don’t feel like it.


Miss Britt
September 27, 2010 at 9:45 am

Yay for not having cancer!!!!!


Loukia September 27, 2010 at 10:59 am

Oh… how about, when I’m loading the dishwasher after the children have gone to bed , and I accidentally make too much noise as a plate hits another plate, and my husband yells at me from the basement (where he is playing wii on his 63 inch TV) telling me to stop making so much noise?


September 27, 2010 at 12:56 pm

I think you need to implement a, if you aren’t going to do it your dam self, then keep your mouth shut, rule.


annie September 27, 2010 at 1:12 pm

Assholey is my new favorite word!! I think it might even surpass “stabby index” – although they do seem a little related. My stabby index is usually in direct correlation to how assholey everybody else is being. Thanks!!


Emme September 27, 2010 at 2:12 pm

that’s hilarious. my husband also seems to think wanting to do something matters, which of course it doesn’t!


chantal September 27, 2010 at 3:39 pm

Use paper plates for the next few weeks. Give yourself a break.


Cynthia Blakley September 27, 2010 at 6:05 pm

Ladies, Ladies oh Ladies, Try going on strike! or did you all loose your back bones at the alter? My husband use to tell me as I was putting the last dish into the machine that I(chief cook and bottle washer)wasn’t loading the dishwasher correctly, after about 2 weeks of this I decided to do something about the mouthpiece that was my husband. I continued to clean the house, do the laundry and prpeare the meals, after three days I ran out of glass dishes and bought paper plates, the mouthpiece asked why and I told him that the dishwasher broke down,after his initial shock was over, I told him that the machine stopped cleaning the dishes,so to prove me wrong as he was telling me that the dishes were not getting clean because I didn’t know how to load it properly, he began to load the dishwasher,after the machine finished the cycle and the dishes were not clean, he called a repairman who informed him the he was to scrape the plates and rinse them off before being loaded into the dishwasher and to leave spaces so the water could reach all surfaces, mouthpiece paid the $85./hour service call and never complained again about the dishwasher loading.
LOKIA sweetheart – you need to learn how to tap dance in high heels above the room where hubby play’s his video games, when he shouts at you for making so much noise….tell him it’s your new hobby and you must practise.


deborah l quinn
September 28, 2010 at 11:46 pm

okay, yes, I load the dishwasher the RIGHT WAY in our house. Husband loads it any which way, which means he can fit about four dishes and maybe two glasses and the odd fork. Then he runs the damn thing but never quiiiite has time to empty said dishwasher. Me? I jam that puppy full of dishes so that I don’t have to do it as often. And I run it at night so that in the morning I can hide in the kitchen “emptying the dishwasher” while children scurry around looking for all the crap they were supposed to have loaded into their backpacks the previous evening. That way, Husband has to deal with the progeny while I just stack the plates (who don’t talk back) and drink my coffee.


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