No scabs allowed

At the risk of getting my ass kicked by the Wife, we had a bit of a situation at the house the last few days. It appears the maid went on strike. It all began with my wife beginning the clean the kitchen on Monday night. She had just started doing dishes. It was getting late and I wanted to get lunches made for the next day, as that is my job. Our island in the kitchen was full of papers and hadn't been cleaned in a few days (my wife likes the counter to be clean and for me to use a cutting board to minimize the spread of germs).

Anyway, I did not wish to wait for the island to be clean and proceeded to make sandwiches without a cutting board (but not cutting on the counter top mind you). I was making PBJ sandwiches for the Wife and kids so to me, no big deal. The wife reminded me that she hadn't cleaned the counter yet to which I replied that I was aware that she had not. This is when The Strike began.

She walked away from the kitchen, water still in the sink, dishes on the counter. And there they remained until last night. Water still in the sink and everything. Now, before all the judgemental stuff starts (and before I get wacked with a heavy object upon getting home), I must say that the fact that the dishes needed to be done and that the countertop was not clean was not what bothered me. My wife does a good job of keeping the kitchen neat overall and we never run out of clean dishes or cookware. My problem was the island.

It has become the repository of every item of paper we collect. Everyone has a "crap pile", you know, magazines you haven't looked at yet, important papers to review, drawings the kids made you want to save, that sort of thing. Well, our island was covered with papers to the point that I only had an area about 6 inches by 6 inches to work on. And I was tired of it looking that way.

Mind you, the Wife certainly would have made everything neat and wiped down the counter, but we still would have piles of paper on the island. When we moved in, it was my intent that the island would not be used as the location of our "crap pile". I bought some nice stackable trays to put on our desks to help us organize all the stuff. But alas, they are too far from the kitchen and the kitchen table, where most of the document reviewing process takes place. Therefore, things ended up on the island.

To continue, the Wife was kind enough to inform me yesterday evening that "The maid is on strike". I did explain to her what I said above and reiterated that I never thought she did not keep a clean kitchen. I was only tired of all the papers on the island (BTW, I did clean everything off of the island on Monday while we were busy ignoring each other). I think we came to a better understanding. I am looking for an alternate method of storing papers that would allow easy access in the kitchen and yet still keep them off of the island. The Wife suggeted hanging folders. As we have a pantry immediately off the kitchen, I thought it would be a perfect location for such an organizational tool. It has the advantage of not blocking traffic flow through the kitchen or back hallway.

So, the strike has been resolved, a new understanding negotiated, and the business of maintaining the Franco household once again has resumed. We are now preparing for Strawberry season and the making of the strawberry freezer jam. The little lady will most likely go picking with our younger son tomorrow. It is normally a family affair, but the older son has a makeup baseball game which I just found out about tonight at our regular game. As the berries are in season, waiting is not advised. The boys LOVE mom's freezer jam and I must also admit it's the best tasting jam I've ever had (better even than my mom's). So I look forward to a new batch as last year's was used up over a month ago.

If I don't post anything for the next few business days I will most likely be recovering from a concussion suffered from "accidentally" intersecting my skull with a heavy object that might possiblby been in the possesion of the Wife for being the insensitve "man" that I can be. Love you Dear!


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