A Tale of a Two-Gamer Household

My husband plays WOW and up until last weekend, one of his nightly questions to me, besides inquiring on the status of his pajamas, is “when are you going to start playing WOW with me?”  He insists we would be an unbeatble team because I’m the master of character and resource management.  My standard response to him is that if we both played WOW the household would fall into further disrepair than it already is and I enjoy having a life.  (Yep, we’re the annoying neighbors with the overgrown yard that is now dead.  The city has told us that our yard is a fire hazard.  This was, no doubt, prompted by the complaint of an annoyed neighbor.)   And then comes “Enchanted Arms” and I’m hooked.  Last weekend marked the second weekend of my Enchanted Arms addiction and the second week that I had not cooked, cleaned, or done the laundry.  Waking up briefly from the fog of addiction, I found out that sometime within those two weeks the refrigerator had broken and ice maker was dribbling water onto the floor because the freezer was a nice warm 35-degrees F, and the fridge was at a balmy 55F.  The laundry pile was waist high and  pushing its way out of the laundry room.  Fortunately, my little guinea pig, Snowball, LOUDLY let me know when he was feeling neglected so he was fine (he NEVER misses a meal).  And so last Saturday night, the first of the usual questions my husband asks me came around — “Honey, do I have any bed shorts?”  And this time I answered, “No, you have no clean bed shorts because I’ve been playing Enchanted Arms for the last two weeks.”  And then he asked, “Um, how about some underwear?  Hey! my drawers are empty!”  to which I replied “Yep.  By the way, the fridge is broke”  And then he became silent.  The next morning, bright and early, I set to cleaning up after 2-weeks of neglect.  My husband, without a word, went outside and mowed the dead lawn and cut back the bushes.  When night fell and the laundry was neatly folded and basketed, my husband without a word, carried those baskets upstairs.  Oh, and the kicker!  On Tuesday night he ironed his own shirt!  The fridge miraculously fixed itself.  Apparently something froze and it just needed to be defrosted.

I’m not one of those people who makes a big deal out of female and male roles in a household.  My husband and I do what each of us is good at.  But let there be no mistake, somebody has to check, every once in a while, that the fridge is still working ;p.

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