Friday, November 25, 2016

Ain't No Helper Like A Farmer H Helper Cause A Farmer H Helper Makes His Own Rules

Farmer H decided to help me with the Thanksgiving chores yesterday. He cleaned The Pony's room during the two or three days prior. Then he DID wipe the kitchen counters as asked, while I took a shower before the #1 son and guest arrived. I had also asked for him to sweep the kitchen floor, rife with his boot droppings (though none big enough to look like a chocolate shortbread cookie this time). He did not sweep. Not until I was rolling the green bean bundles in bacon, and asked again. He did a haphazard job of it. But still, I didn't have to do it.

Once our dining companions arrived, Farmer H left me to finish cooking, while he held court in the living room. Even though both #1 and Guest came to the kitchen to see if they could help. I gave them a couple of prep duties, and then #1 made the gravy.

After dining, I wanted to get the leftovers put away. No food poisoning on Mrs. Hillbilly Mom's watch! No siree, Bob! I wanted to spend time with #1, who was leaving within the hour, but returning that night. Farmer H, however, decided it was time to do the dishes. I had told him five or six times that I did not mind doing the dishes myself. I am used to that chore, and it was okay with me, once I had time to visit, and after #1 left. But no. Farmer H needed to do those dishes RIGHT THEN. So I left him at the sink, and went to talk in the living room. AFTER I had cleared out the food and stowed it in FRIG II.

When I went to the kitchen after the guests left, I saw that Farmer H had only washed what HE wanted to wash. All the glasses were still left. And the tray that had held the veggies and dip. And assorted utensils. Also, he had stacked the silverware in the drainer in a way that made draining difficult. Spoons were spooning spoons!!! Serving spoons nestled together, and eating spoons nestled together! Which meant that they would never dry, and that I had to do it by hand. Same way with the plates leaning on each other, and the bowls packed tight. I dried them. And in doing so, found out that

THERE WAS STILL FOOD STUCK ON SILVERWARE AND BOWLS!

So I set them aside. To do over. When I felt like it. This morning.

What are ya gonna do? You have a passive-aggressive do-gooder who doesn't do good enough. I swear he only volunteers, then does it badly, so I don't want him to try again.

Even though I knew that the first time around.

3 comments:

Sioux said...

Show him! Lavish on the praise. Compliment him in front of others.

"Farmer H is helping out so much."

"My considerate husband, Farmer H, is a regular dynamo when it comes to housecleaning."

"Farmer H cleans the dishes so well, they're sparkling."

IF you can say these things without either 1) hysterically laughing or 2) dodging the lightning bolts that God is sending down at you for your lies, it will really mess with his mind.

Hillbilly Mom said...

Sioux,
I can imagine him beaming with pride for his job not-well done.

Kathy's Klothesline said...

Reminds me of an old joke: A young man pays a visit to his Grampa. On the first night, as they sat down to eat, the young man noticed that his plate was not squeaky clean and questioned the old man about the cleanliness of the dishes, Grampa said "They are as clean as cold water can get them." Breakfast dishes were the same and the young man commented on it again and got the same reply. Lunch, then another supper had the same results. The young man was resigned to eating from utensils, off plates that had been washed in cold water. Later that evening as they sat on the porch under the starlight, Grampa finally introduced his grandson to his dog, Cold Water.