"I am, thanks. If you wouldn't mind putting it away."
He looks around all confuseled.
"You don't know where it lives, do you?" I ask.
"Sure I do," he says - gesticulating wildly - a vain attempt to distract from his ignorance.
"In the cupboard there," I vaguely point to the vanity.
He reaches for the drawer...
"No, the cupboard, hon..." And then it hits me.
"What?" he asks.
"How long have we lived in this house?"
"When did we move? Over a year ago, right?"
I raise my eybrows at him. "You've never seen that sponge before, have you? It's never been in your hand."
I let out a deep cackle. "You have never cleaned this bathroom."
"Uhhhh... Well... No... I guess that I haven't..."
"Wait! Have you EVER cleaned a bathroom?" I think back to our last house. "Have you actually ever cleaned a toilet?"
"Of course I have cleaned a toilet. I've even cleaned the tub once or twice, but usually what happens is that you re-clean it after me, so we decided..."
I look at him.
"...that it was probably better if you did the bathrooms..." he trails off.
"Well you do tend to re-clean something if you think it hasn't been done right," he defends.
I raise my eyebrows again.
"To be fair," he backpedals. "You might not feel the need to re-clean something if it had been properly cleaned in the first place."
I snort. "Is this like when you were younger and if you and your brother waited long enough to finish a chore your Mom would just lose patience and do it herself?"
"NO! Of course not. I just have a different skill-set around the house. See, I am the one who FIXES the toilets. I vacuum like nobody's business. I hook up all our new media players..." He looks like he's waiting for a high-five.
"Dude. You didn't know where the sponge LIVED."
"But I do know what it's used for.." He gives a tentative grin.
A laugh escapes me. "Other women would not react with laughter to this situation?'
"No they probably wouldn't."
I smile. "Other women don't blog."
From New Girl