On the Home Front

When we were growing up, there was an understood rule that Mom could not be gone from the house for more than two days. Dad could handle work and kids and dinner and soccer practice and piano lessons for approximately 48 hours; but much longer after that, and order would slowly start to unravel. Outside of the yard, the "Home Front" just wasn't quite Dad's "niche."

However, since his retirement and Mom's hat trick of injuries the past couple of years, Dad has slowly found himself embarking on a new career of domestic training. Dad has had learn how to navigate the inner aisles of the grocery store (as opposed to the perimeter where the steak, eggs, and milk live). He has honed his skills in bathroom cleaning, kitchen mopping, and dog walking; and my mother has even let him iron. (No burns or scorches, to his credit.)

As blase' as this all may sound, we must recall that my mom has organized the daily cooking and cleaning of our household as though she had it mentally laid out on a multi-colored spreadsheet. (Perhaps she does, for all I know.) As a result, she has a certain mindset about how things "should" be done. Sheets should be washed on a certain day; freezers should be defrosted in a certain month; and all of these things should be done with a smile and a song worthy of Mary Poppins herself.

My dad's not really a "Julie Andrews musical" kind of guy. He has done pretty well in spite of it. But there has been the occasional... miscommunication, as would be expected. For example, Mom had told Dad what settings to use for a particularly tricky load of laundry. Mom's instructions did not reconcile with what Dad saw in the laundry room; so Dad (former engineer), drew a schematic of the front of the washing machine and took it to Mom for her to clarify. In response, my mother (former schoolteacher) sent my dad to the "Household Appliances" folder in her four-drawer filing cabinet to get the manual. A consensus was reached, and the laundry was finished; but this should answer a lot of questions for people who wonder why my brother and I are as... "detail-oriented" as we both are. And Type A shall wed Type A, and they shall begat Type A and Type A...