My job requires me to have a slightly less-than-normal schedule, thus making Wednesday's the start of my work week. During the first couple hours of my shift, I have a routine where I sit back in my desk chair and quietly wonder how my days off went by so goddamn quick.
Today being Wednesday, it started no differently than the multitude of Wednesday's behind me. I logged on for work, reclined in my chair with my hands folded behind my head, and sighed the heavy sigh of a man destined for a long and trying day. I closed my eyes, and started going through the list of things that I did on my days off...
Wash, dry, and fold The Boss' and my laundry... Wash the dishes... Pick up clutter around the house... Clean the cat box... Cook dinner...
Wait a minute.
Now, before I upset anyone, I've never been one to support or encourage traditional gender roles. However, after realizing all the various chores I did this week, and how many times I've done all these chores in previous weeks, I'm beginning to feel like there is a lack of a certain piece (or pieces, really) of anatomy between my legs.
Don't get me wrong... There is nothing wrong with a guy who does chores. I think every guy should help out with things around the house, and not just expect his wife or girlfriend to do certain things. I've not once expected The Boss to do the cleaning or the cooking while I sit around and scratch myself; It's more often than not quite the opposite (minus the scratching). I actually feel better about myself when I know that I'm contributing to the greater good of my household, but that good feeling stops when I feel like I'm losing my masculinity.
Ever since I've made this realization, though, I've felt the need to go out and do some stereotypical "guy" things. Like drink beer. Gorge myself on pizza, burgers, or hot wings. Watch football. Drive my big truck around. Go to the hardware store and buy some tools. Watch an action movie with fast cars and hot women. Something, anything that will help restore faith in the fact that I still have an ounce of testosterone left in my body.
But before I do any of those things, will you hand me my balls, please?
They are right there... Right next to my purse.
P.S. What's that? What about the give-away I mentioned yesterday? That's right, I almost forgot. I'm still working out the details. I promise I'll reveal everything about it tomorrow.