10:30 am
Mrs. deWinter is still in bed. Not a total sleep-in. She's been up once, is awake, and is reading. Saturday morning bliss for a work-long-hours-with-a-commute gal.
Oh, but she has plans. For shopping.
In our partnership, Mrs. deWinter is the shopper. Now does this surprise anyone? Most of the time, she leaves me completely out of it, though I do help create lists and occasionally perceive basic needs. For instance, the kitchen -- we need a new electric can opener, a new George Forman grill, a new
Römertopf.
She ordered the can opener online, after doing consumer research. She loves doing consumer research, which is why we're not going to get another
George Forman, but a
Hamilton Beach instead.
But back to the can opener. It came this week by FedEx. I was here to sign for it, naturally, 'cause I'm a
SOHO house butch, but I left her the pleasure of opening the box, which she did shortly after getting home late (her usual). She opened it, looked at it, spread the pamphlets all over the table, and said, "Hmmm. I don't get how it works." And left it there (and the box, the bubble wrap, the registration card, the instructions, and the other pieces of ephemera that came tumbling out of the box).
So, I plugged it in and figured it out, then filled out the registration card, filed the manual, tossed the ephemera, stashed the bubble wrap with our gift-wrapping supplies, broke down the shipping box and put it with the recycling.
See what I mean about division of labor?
Haloscan:
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Blogger:
Division of Labor 
