The first week we were in our new place, I spent a good two solid days in the kitchen.  One whole day lining all of the damn cabinets, another day emptying our boxes into said cabinets, followed by cooking meals for the two of us in our marginally un-chaos-ified kitchen.

I sat down on the couch with Husband at the end of those two days, and stared out of the window while we ate dinner.  The couch had been sitting for a week exactly where the movers had left it as we slowly removed boxes from around it. Fortunately, they had left the couch in the middle of the living room facing the window instead of the wall.

“This is so stereotypical,” I complained.  “I’ve spent two whole days in the kitchen.  What a blow to the modern woman.”

“What?!  I’ve spent two whole days putting in sinks, drilling holes into the walls to build our closet, putting up curtain rods, putting in new bathroom fixtures- HOW STEREOTYPICAL!”

Yeah, I most definitely prefer my own gender role to his.  I’m real happy I married a man who knows how to do things around the house– and I’m sure he’s happy he married a woman who knows how to cook.  Screw the modern woman.  We’re happy in here.

A

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