Conversations with My Husband: Have You Ever Cleaned a Baseboard in Your Life?

Conversations with My Husband: Have You Ever Cleaned a Baseboard in Your Life?

Husband: Hey babe, I picked up the paper towels on my way home like you asked.

Me: Ok, great. Thank y … DON’T PUT IT ON THE FLOOR! Please, go put it on the laundry shelf. I mean, honestly!

Husband: Geez! Fine - so bossy. What’d you do today?

Me: I was hoping our spotless, shiny house that smells like soap would have been a dead giveaway.

Husband: Oh, you cleaned! Yes, it looks great. Are you ok? Why are you lying all crooked like that?

Me:  I’m so sore I can barely walk and I feel like I’m about to get a Charley horse in my left butt cheek. I don’t know if it’s a testament to how hard I cleaned or how little I move my body on a day-to-day basis.

Husband: Probably the latter.

​​Me: Excuse, me. I was on my hands and needs scrubbing baseboards. Have you ever cleaned a baseboard in your life? Do you even know what a baseboard is?

Husband: I feel like this is a setup.

Me:  Have you ever washed the base of a toilet? Do you know the horrors that live at the base of a toilet? 

Husband: Again, I sense this might be a trick question.​

Me: Have you ever looked behind our bed? Did you know that left untouched, there will be so much hair and dust bunnies, we could come out with our own line of toupees?

Husband: I think the last time I looked behind our bed was when we moved, but I can’t really remember for sure …

Me: Hold on, my butt is about to spasm.

Husband: For real?

Me: False alarm. I washed every inch of this wood floor with that damn steamer. It works my glutes like a furious Jillian Michaels. 

Husband: Sounds too intense for me, babe. Where’s the remote?

Me: Seriously. When was the last time you truly deep cleaned anything?

Husband: I’m avoiding these questions because you’re turning on me. I can see it in your eyes.

Me: No, I’m genuinely curious.

Husband: I did the dishes yesterday, thank you very much.

Me:  Putting a few dishes in a dishwasher while leaving dried marinara caked on the countertop isn’t deep cleaning. I’m talking, wash down the cupboards, scrub the film off the shower door, clean.

Husband: Who washes down cupboards? Get serious! 

Me: This is what I’m saying.

Husband: I deep cleaned the bathroom before. You said you could eat dinner off the toilet seat. Remember that?

Me: Ok, one room in the house. One room in the house you deep cleaned because I was stressed and PMSing with guests arriving in 15 minutes and your version of “clean” was so bad I burst in to tears.

Husband: Exactly, so I went back in and made that puppy sparkle for my babe.

Me: You did it because I was crying and PMSing and you feared for your life. 

Husband: Well, we all get motivated in different ways. But seriously, I’m thankful for you taking care of all this while I was out.

Me:  You’re welcome.

Husband: Want me to massage your glutes? 

Me: No, that's weird. Ok, yes - I'm getting desperate.


If we sound a lot like you and your partner, give us a like on that Facebook button below so we don't feel so weird ... :D 

Oh, and share your story in the comments!