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A Chaotic Closet, Piles of Unironed Clothes, and Sour Soup in the Fridge – This Has Become Our Home….
A topsy-turvy wardrobe, tumbling hills of unironed clothes, and sour soup lurking in the fridgethese became the features of our home. I wanted to broach some gentle questions with my wife, but somehow accusations also floated back my way, strange and swirling.
From the moment I glimpsed Alice, I tumbled headlongI was utterly taken with her. Alice captivated me with her beauty and her enigmatic charm. I thought myself exceedingly fortunate to stand beside a woman both brilliant, attractive, and meticulously tidy. I wasted no time in asking for her hand.
When we decided to make a home together, Alice explained she wasnt keen on domestic chores. She preferred to throw herself into her career, insisting we split the housework right down the middle. At the time, this struck me as entirely fair and sensible though I couldnt have guessed what curious future lay ahead.
We carved up the household duties and Alice assured me she could easily balance work and home life. I trusted her word and stilled my own doubts.
Six months drifted by and clouds gathered. Alices professional life turned out to be less fruitful than shed hoped. She picked up part-time work for a little-known firm, her pay intermittent and unpredictable, her hours scattered. The wages went on personal indulgences meanwhile, I toiled ceaselessly from dawn till dusk. Still, Alice had stored away our pact of fair shares, though sometimes she seemed to overlook her part altogether.
At first, she approached her share of chores diligently, but soon her enthusiasm began to fade away like mist. The house slipped deeper into chaos, with piles of crumpled shirts everywhere. To my bewilderment, she began blaming me, suggesting I ought to help her more. Her words stung me to the quick. It was almost unbearable to juggle my demanding job and tend to the house as wellespecially since wed agreed on equality from the outset.
I held onto the hope that things would improve when our child arrived. I imagined Alice might tend to the home and our baby during her maternity leave. Unfortunately, matters only grew stranger. Sometimes I wonder whether life would be simpler if I was alone. Alongside all this, our quarrels have become woven into the fabric of our days.
Though I strive to step into Alices shoes and see her point of view, I cant shake the sense that my own needs vanish into the ether. I slog through work at the office, race through housework at home, and struggle to keep all the plates spinning. Often all I yearn for is a moment of peace.
I puzzle over what exactly Alice does all day during her maternity leave, and what keeps her from making supper or tidying up. Our baby is only two months old and naps through most of the day. I tell myself that perhaps I could handle some chores under such circumstances. I cant help but wonder how wed cope if another little one arrives. Ive always championed fairness and sharing the loadbut somehow Alice seems to drift away from the idea.
I dont want to shatter our family, for I adore our little one beyond words. But at times, I worry Ive reached the end of my rope. I dont know how to keep wading through this strange fog we call daily life. Whose side do you take in such a surreal tale?
