The Chore Date

Chore Date ed

“Not tonight, love, I’m folding my laundry.” This was on the tip of my tongue the other night, when a friend asked me to the pub. I kid you not. Do you ever feel you have to choose between seeing your friends and getting on top of the housework? Enter the Chore Date.

Our children get playdates; we get to squeeze in a coffee while ticking through in our worried little minds the unfolded laundry, the unmopped floor, the unsewn nametapes waiting for us at home. OK, maybe sewing nametapes is going a bit far (laundry pens people!), but the point is: there’s crochet groups, book groups, quilt-making groups, Zumba groups – so why not a housework group?

Obviously this only applies to fairly close friends: I wouldn’t invite a new acquaintance round to watch me scrub the loo. And it requires a mutual despair at the state of your house, to the point where taking your laundry mountain to a friend’s to fold seems like a sane thing to do.

I have three young children: I am never on top of my housework. I am already at the stage of life where I compare notes with my friends on things like the pros and cons of the various mop-heads on the market, and how best to clear up couscous (answer: leave to dry and then hoover up – otherwise the little devils stick to your brush.)

So why should the twain not meet?

It’s not exactly washing clothes together on the stones of a fast-flowing river, but as far as solidarity goes, a group ironing session would be pretty awesome. We could even have wine!

In case you’re wondering / worrying – I did go to the pub that night. But the spectre of my laundry mountain haunted me all night.

The Romantic Chore Date

Your husband needn’t miss out! What could be more pleasing than an evening spent mutually doing chores? The day we spent clearing out (half of) the garage was the best time we’ve had together in ages. Who knows where a chore date could lead?

Do you manage to make time for everything, or could you do with a chore date?

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