Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus

I had a "Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus" moment the other day that I thought was worth sharing.

I am lucky to work at a place with a flexible work schedule.  Through the years, I've been able to adjust my hours in order to take my daughters to school, coach, and watch their different athletic events and attend their academic ceremonies.

It's been said that your children grow up in the blink of an eye and if you don't make the time to be involved in their lives, you'll miss it.  There are no repeats.

I've left work to drive 90-minutes to Ledyard to watch a 6-minute track race.  I've travelled and slept in hotels to watch the Derby Pop Warner cheerleaders try to get to Orlando.  I've been to plays, masses, sang on the Derby Green, and done just about everything with my wife and daughters.

Part of our home life is that I usually take care of the outside of the house (lawn, garbage, etc) and my wife takes care of the inside of the house (meals, cleaning, etc...).  The lone exception is that I normally do the laundry.

I actually don't mind doing the laundry but with two adolescent daughters in the house, it can get out of control pretty quickly.

Sunday is laundry day and I have a system of putting a load in the washer, spinning the dryer, and folding the clothes while watching football.  Once the washer and dryer are going, I usually get to nap and watch the games for an hour or so and then repeat the process.  This goes on all day and many a time, Patsy will come downstairs, catch me snoring in my recliner and ask, "What are you doing?"  I always reply, "Doing the laundry."

Anyways, Patsy's mom was in the hospital not too long ago.  She wasn't feeling well and spent the better part of a week getting tests done.

During this time, I upped my game, so she could be with her mom.  I've been taking the girls to school, going to work, picking them up, making dinner, and then cleaning up the dishes afterwards.  Usually about  8 or so, I'm finished and finally get to relax a bit.

It was after one of those long days after her mom was released that Patsy asked if I'd mind to run her mom's iron up to her so that she could get back to feeling normal.

Of course, I said yes, but in the back of my mind I was thinking:

1. We need to do this now, it's nearly 9 p.m.
2. I just did 10 loads of laundry and was settling in for the evening.
3. How is ironing going to make her feel like herself?
4. I don't ever remember seeing her ironing.
5. Why did we borrow her iron when we have our own?

As I put on my slippers, grabbed my coat and pocketed the car keys I asked, "Where's the iron?"

Patsy pointed to a small CVS bag on the table.

I am sure the look on my face was priceless as Patsy immediately said, "You didn't think I was talking about an actual iron, did you?"

My reply, "Well you're in the medical field and I've been doing laundry all day.  What am I supposed to think?"

Happy to report Patsy's mom is home and feeling better.