The Hapless Househusband Experiments With Alcohol

First of all, could you keep it down a little, my head hurts…

My dear friend Tim suggested that my approach to housework was too, well, prohibition era. The idea that a little beverage of the alcoholic persuasion could improve the experience was of interest to me. So for the sake of science I decided to sacrifice the very last shreds of my, very much diminished, dignity and try this out.

Naturally, I waited until She-who-is-adored had driven off to work, lunch packed and prepared in a sober state, before the initial drink. Now, I realized that this was not a job for Mr. Merlot or his white wine friends, as I would become too mellow, too quickly, and there was no way this day was going to end with me shouting, "You go girl" at the ladies on ‘The View’.

Beer was a possibility, but I'd end up watching some sporting event and eating Tostitos and I'm trying to watch my sodium intake. Vodka would never work as it puts me directly to sleep. There were no wine coolers to be found and I’m not old enough to drink sherry. Plus, I was not going to waste a single malt.

So this led me to the obvious choice.

Margaritas.

Nothing says party, well fiesta really, quite like a margarita. Jimmy Buffet may have lost his saltshaker, but hell, he'd had a great time up until then.

And, this slushie for grown-ups would help me with the overheating that tends to occur when I get involved in physical labor. It's mostly ice, right? The salt will replenish my essential something or others, and, the limejuice is fruit and thus this is practically a health regimen.

Genius.

Part one of scientific research complete…

The margarita is the perfect beverage for housework.

I find a bottle of tequila. Wipe the dust off. Find the freshest bottle of margarita mix, the salt, the glass and cut up a lime (or unripe lemon - who can tell?) and prepared the blender.

Houston, we have lift off.

I carefully measure one cup of tequila, three cups of mix, and a couple of scoops of ice.

Blend.

Well, first I wonder why it won’t work, plug the blender in, and then blend.

I go for no-chunk smoothie style to start, wet the glass, dip in the salt and pour the first glass.

Little sharp for eight o'clock in the morning, but this is for science. I empty the glass, and make my way upstairs. Job one; remove the sheets from our bed. Other than a minor tussle with the duvet cover, it all goes well, and I collect my bundle of sheet, cover, pillowcases, and towels, and head on down to the laundry room.

Hot wash, cold rinse, add the right amount of liquid detergent, it's all going swimmingly. Have to say I've never noticed how interesting the back and forth movement of the agitator thingy is before and have to snap myself out of a semi hypnotic state.

So, I head into the kitchen to empty the dishwasher and, lo and behold, come across the blender full of margarita. Glass two tastes a little better, less bitter, and the salt is just so salty...

I clean off the counters, enjoying the smell of the cleaning stuff, and make pretty swirley patterns that evaporate. Have to admit to feeling fairly mellow, and wondering why my face hurts.

Ah ha! I've already got the big drunk happy face going, so I deliberately try to frown.

Which is funny, and makes me laugh.

This is fun!

The kitchen is looking fairly respectable, so I move into the family room, but I am distracted by the buzz from the laundry room. First wash and rinse over, I add the pretty blue stuff. And wonder if half a cap makes it soft and smell nice, wouldn't, like, three caps be totally awesome? I go for it. I watch the blue swirl into the whites and once again get mesmerized by the turn, swirl, turn, swirl of the aggidater.

I need another drink.

That's the first batch gone, so I make up batch two, which for some reason is a lot spillier than the first batch. Can’t find the lid thingy, so half of it ends on the counter, which I wipe off with my tongue. Find large patch of salt, Wash mouth out with another muergerina …

OK.

Deep breath.

Clean the toilets or vacuum?

Vacuum.

Why's it go so many u's? Some left over from Americans misspelling neighbour and colour perhaps?

Vacuum.

OK, plug it in and go.

No wait…

We have a round coffee table, what if I went in circles and made lovely, lovely, swirleys on the carpet? Cool.

Head feeling a bit spinny now.

Dang that vacuum's noisy.

Need a bit of a sit.

Buzz…

Need to take the shits out from the sloshing machine and tup them in the ryder.

Harder than usual. For some reason the stuff is kinda slimy, smells good though. Turn dryer on.

Need to go up stairs and get load two.

Stairs have gotten all steep on me, so for safety's sake I go up on all fours.

Coming back down the stairs, even harder, as they have seemed to have gone all Hogwarts and stuff, and keep on moving.

Get next load in machine. Add some stuff and stagger back into the family room for a bit of a lie down.

This is not going too well.

Realize I need some food.

Find the blender instead.

Have a likkle dlink.

Oooh, Chris is feeling ti ti, trip over vacuum, fall on couch, turn on TV somehow and shout at a soap until asleep.

She-who-is-adored (but ever so slightly angry) came home to loud snoring. Husband hugging the vacuum on the floor. Darks all tie-dyed and smelling of bleach. Sheets so soft they fell apart and the kitchen all covered in salt, lime and sticky.

So, overall, not a success, then...

But an important lesson learned. I really need to learn to pace myself…

If you enjoy this hub, please check out my book,

Homo Domesticus; A Life Interrupted By Housework,

A collection of my best writings woven into a narrative on a very strange year in my life.

Available directly from:

http://www.lulu.com/content/paperback-book/homo-domesticus/12217500

Chris