No, really. Here's why:
- I hate to cook. My husband is a great cook and does it all the time. I hate it and am not very good at it, unless it's something coming out of a box or some sort of casserole for which I have a recipe. Last night I made dinner because he worked late, and I felt like I deserved a medal for putting forth the effort. He also packs his own lunch.
- I also don't do my husband's laundry. He tends to do his own, because I am so picky about my stuff not getting dried/shrunk. So he does it himself rather than waiting for me to get desperate enough to do a load or two after not doing any for two weeks. This usually occurs when I am out of underwear.
- I don't garden. If I could afford to pay someone to come plant flowers and do all those outdoorsy things, I totally would. I hate to get dirty, I am always afraid there are spiders lurking in the underbrush, and well...I just generally don't give a crap. Flowers are nice to look at, but they're just so much freaking work. I mean, you have to remember to water them and stuff... (Don't worry. It won't be like that with my baby. I'll totally water it every day.)
- I refuse to fetch things for my husband out of principle. Need a beer? Need something from the other room? You're out of luck, pal. Get off your butt and do it yourself.
- I don't know how to sew. I can kind of sew a button on if it falls off, but it's not pretty.
So there you go. I am totally domestically challenged. And after 29 years of life, I don't expect it to change anytime soon. Sorry, honey!