Pitching in as a form of seduction.

I was reading The New Yorker from May 29, 2006, and spotted a cartoon that had me laughing out loud. A guy in an SUV stuck in traffic is saying into his cell phone, “Hey, baby, I just dropped the kids off at school, and now I’m going to the grocery store, and then I’m going home and unloading the car—am I making you hot?”

Very funny—and it makes the same point emphasized by all the marriage studies I’ve read: that being helpful to each other does much more to strengthen passion within marriage than a romantic island get-away. The determining factor of spouses’ satisfaction with their marriage’s sex, romance, and passion is by 70% the quality of their friendship.

As the cartoon shows, a big issue in marriage, alas, is trying to get everything done without doing it all yourself.

One of my friends takes a completely different approach. She and her husband have a tacit agreement, “Don’t assign.” No saying, “Would you…” “I’ll do X while you do Y…” “On your way home would you…” And they have three kids! The only reason this works is that neither of them is a shirker, and they have almost exactly the same idea of what needs to be done. But still. Think about life without assigning tasks.

I’m trying to do a better job of pitching in more and barking orders less. For example, when I saw the Big Man unloading the dishwasher yesterday (a job he hates, so extra credit for him), instead of slinking away and congratulating myself on dodging that minor chore, I started helping out.

And I’m trying to do less assigning, too. I used to think it was the Big Man’s responsibility to keep some cash in the house. He never did, which constantly annoyed me. Then I realized: why do I get to decide that that’s his job? Now I do it. We always have cash, and I’m not annoyed. For his part, he's been replacing a lot of lightbulbs and dealing with the digital camera. It's all very romantic.

Comments

[Kass]

I agree. It IS very romantic.

[lea]

i'd love to know your friend's unspoken "system." i do think men really want to know as little as possible about what they conceive of as "little things." and little things might mean dishwashers--little things might also mean therapists. men need to feel (whether they are bankers or painters or muffin-makers*) that they are out there being brad pitt and kissinger at once, that they are dedicated to the pursuit of "big things." as long as you can "frame," as an MBA might say, a task to make it seem masculine and large, to make it SEEM like a "big thing," they are likely to bite. this is why they love technology, and fixing broken tv sets: it makes them feel smart.

*my brother is a baker

[joe]

hi. first time comment. i've been reading your blog and love it. good job!

btw, my wife and i learned early on that we feel love and happiness in different ways. we read a book together called, 'the five love languages'. it's great. she feels loved when i DO CHORES. she loves it. washing the dishes, brushing the kids teeth, doing the laundry; these are what make her feel good. gifts to her a waste of money. 2nd is quality time and attention. she's a spend thrift if you can't tell already. on the other hand, i feel loved with gifts and touch. i am thrilled with a gift and a hug. i hug my wife and the kids a lot. i don't give my wife gifts very often, only practical ones that she can use and then appreciate. and, i give the kids gifts. i express my happiness in the way i feel it.

unless i really know the person and what they would really like, i usually give gifts that i think are cool. gift giving might be fertile ground for you to explore.

[Monica Ricci]

Joe, I'm just like your wife. Not into gifts, but instead, my primary love language is acts of service. Which means when my husband unloads the dishwasher, takes out the garbage, or vaccums, it means more to me than if he stops and gets me flowers on the way home. NOW... not that I don't loooove the flowers! But being a team and sharing responsibility equally is such a huge part of marriage for me, that if forced to choose, I'd forgo the flowers every time. ~Monica