Chatting with my mum in her kitchen over a wine a couple of months into my new working arrangement, I said, ‘I really just want to ask Simon to take on the mental load for feeding the dog, but I’m not sure it’s going to be worth it.’
She laughed and said, ‘Don’t even bother, it’s just going to be easier to do it yourself.’ While I knew she was right, I thought dammit, it’s his dog – here goes nothing.
Later that week he says to me, “We’re almost out of kibble”.
“Ok, cool. Will you pick some up?” I offer.
“Oh. You want me to buy the dog food too?” he says with surprise.
“Yeah, like can you take full responsibility for her food? I don’t want to have to think about it. At all.”
Now he’s starting to get it.
Sometimes I say, “Finished with the Thermo then?”, or “Shall I pop this saucepan in the dishwasher?”, which is not what he wants to hear. What he wants to hear is “Thank you for making the dog food you domestic hero.”
More on the mental load.