I’ve been a bit preoccupied this week, and nothing much in the columns has been leaping out at me, so I’ve decided to dig through some of my (oooold) unpublished drafts and see what I can make of them. Inspired, as always, by Maria Von Trapp, I decided to start at the very beginning (a very good place to start). So, I scrolled to the bottom of my draft posts, and found this one from September 18. September 18, 2008. That’s, like, two weeks after I started this blog. The draft was titled, simply, “toilets.”
Naturally, I was a little excited by this, since I had no idea what it was…and, indeed, it was not at all what I expected. But no wonder I held onto it, eh?:
Dear Amy: Occasionally I see a letter in your column about how couples share—or don’t share—chores. I would like to relate something that my mother told me.
She said that she never realized that toilets got dirty until my father died.
Dear Noel: I’d like to raise a plunger to all of those dedicated men who scour, clean, wash and fold—and who don’t make a big deal about it. Thanks for doing your fair share, guys.
Why didn’t I publish this two years ago? My only guess is that, at the time, I wanted to offer some kind of homily and/or manifesto on marriage and partnership and love and friendship and feminism and independence and interdependence, and never got around to it.
But as 2010 comes to a close and I encounter this letter again, I realize it really stands on its own merit. All I need to say is…..thanks, SK, for scooping the litter each day.
And, good news! I was still able to unearth the column so I can link to it now! Thanks, Chicago Tribune and Google!