At our house, the rule is that if I cook, Dan has to do the dishes. This is great, because I hate doing the dishes. Even with a dishwasher, I really have to motivate myself to clear the sink, since the dishes still have to be put away once they’re clean. What a hassle. The stack of dirty dishes in our sink reached epic proportions this weekend. I didn’t want to clean them, obviously, so I sidled up to Dan and started whining. Me: “C’mon, honey…do the dishes. Pleaaaaassseee? There’s not that many…” Dan: “Why don’t you do them then!” Me: “I cook! Who do you think is putting dinner on the table around here??” Dan: “Woman, you haven’t cooked me dinner in ages!” Me: [Guilty glance...









