So as I’m sure you’ve guessed, this phrase is one that has passed down the male side of my family from my Father to me and from his Father before him to him. My Dad has used this phrase for as long as I can remember but I adopted it about 6 years ago, before we had a dog and a child and we did actually lie in on a Saturday morning…sometimes until lunchtime. We’d have woken around 9am but would’ve made a brew then stayed in bed; my Wife would plan our wedding (because I couldn’t…or more accurately, she wouldn’t let me - story for another time my Wife) and I would check emails, the fantasy football team and watch old YouTube clips of when my football team were good.
However, one weekend morning, I guess I had an urge to cease the day, get up and be active, rather than lie in my own pit, smelling cosier with each hour that passed. “I’m going for a run, then I’m going to make breakfast and get down to Ace Hardware”, - we lived in Dubai at this point so were unfortunately bombarded with American franchises with power names such as “Ace”, which I can tell you it wasn’t. “Why so eager”, my Wife half heartedly queried, as she returned to emailing the Wedding venue people about where ‘we’ could order a Peony from (I think this is type of plant). “Jobs to be done around this house!”, I announced.
There it was, carved into every weekend morning since, just as it had been during my entire childhood, hearing my Dad say it as he launched himself out of bed at 7am. Oddly, as my Dad has got older, he still throws this phrase out and rises early everyday, but since he’s retired, this is often followed with a lot of p*****g about. Well into his well earned retirement, my Dad can often be found at 9am, still in his dressing gown, on his 8th cup of tea accompanied by his empty cereal bowl and bag of meds. He then finally kicks into gear and heads upstairs to get a shower, which generates further p*****g about. Walks into bathroom, walks out of bathroom, gets towels, goes back to bathroom, turns shower on, walks out of bathroom, grabs radio, razor, walks back to bathroom, exits bathroom but now minus the dressing gown wearing only his briefs - it’s at this point you know he’s not messing around anymore - we’re on the final straight. I think there’s usually one or two more walks to the bathroom either side of reaffirming to my Mum one final time that he is indeed getting a shower at which point the door slams, Radio 4 comes on the radio, the shipping forecast is announced, he enters the shower and what sounds like a brawl commences…anyways, I digress…
So where were we, yes, jobs, ‘jobs to be down around this house’. What started out as just getting up and about in a bid to be more active and productive during my weekends has over the years transitioned into something of a burden. In fact, I cannot for the life of me stay in bed past 7am anymore and even then think I should’ve got up sooner. The day is there to be attacked, and if I plan carefully, I can get a lot done. Also, now that we have a child, there really is no choice but get up…he’s certainly an early day man, like all the male side of my family.
Obviously in the week, I’m at work, the virtual rat-race, as it is now but Weekends typically look like this:
Task 1 - Morning Prep - this is actually the first order of my day everyday and consists of making the coffee (for me), tea for my Wife, emptying the dishwasher, setting out my sons meal kit (plate, cup, overall), making a smoothie, preparing the dogs breakfast before finally preparing my own…
Task 2 - Breakfast clean up - after my son has thrown his eggs, fruit and peanut butter all over the kitchen and smeared it all over my life, my OCD is in full over-drive and I start to clean this up, as my Wife will prepare our son for task 3.
Task 3 - Walk Dog and Child - we now load up the buggy (or stroller as they call it here - I really don’t stroll with it), which is actually a series of micro tasks in itself…baby bag, milk, blankets, poo bags (for dog), keys, hats, gloves, dummy (pacifier - not a mannequin)…it goes on. I then walk the dog for probably about an hour and at this point I call my Father and preach about it all. After dodging potential small talk with fellow dog walkers (more on them morons later), I return, and a further 20-minutes pass as I unpack the stroller, clean up the dog and fold down the muddy stroller.
Task 4 - Run - no, not run out of shear frustration or away from my family who by now have hijacked my complete morning, but exercise. I’ve become obsessed with running, like if I don’t get a minimum 5km run in a day, the world will implode. It’s actually not too time consuming…circa 25 minutes…around the same amount of time it takes my Dad to get in the shower.
Task 5 - Chores - now, if it’s Saturday, I’m sort of free to do what I want…until 4pm. If it’s Sunday, then I’m now with my son for the remainder of the day. How this works is, due to the work week days being when I work, my Wife takes Sundays and whatever else she can to do her work. However, I say ‘sort of free to do I want’, loosely. There are still chores to do, so this is what Saturday afternoons are used for. No it’s not have a nap, watch some Netflix, go to the pub - it’s cleaning, fixing something that’s broke, erecting a baby gate, hoovering (another trait of my Fathers), wash the dog, cut the grass, just the never ending list of chores, which often I run out of time to do, as a metaphorical gong is sounded at 4pm when my son is handed over and my Wife starts dinner.
Task 6 - Dinner/Bedtime - Dinner is subsequently followed by my Son making another fine mess (Spag-Bol are the worse nights) at which point I clean up again, my Wife sorts the boy for bed, and I put him to sleep (it’s not as aggressive as it sounds).
Task 7 - Relax - well if you can stay awake. If, IF, my son is asleep by 7.30pm, you can then start to drink, if I haven’t already (who am I kidding, I’m definitely on my 3rd beer at this point). Me and my Wife will then try to watch something on TV, as we try to prolong the last few hours of the day before we go to bed, wake up and do it all over again the next day. We will stay awake for 1 episode of something and then I’ll get cocky and say I can watch another, before being 15-minutes in and having gone to the land of nod…full corpse going on, as my Wife says; mouth open, gaunt cheeks, glasses on…like death sat in the chair over there.
Task 8 - “make your way up the wooden hill” - another Dad inherited phrase for going upstairs to bed. This is also not as easy as just walking up the stairs and doing just that. No, first you let the dog out for his final pee of the day, place his treats on his bed (an indicator it’s bedtime, if his corpse Father wasn’t already a give away), put milk in the cooler bag should the other child wake up in the middle of the night, do a final check to see if all doors are bolted and only then can I ‘make my way up the wooden hill’. I then tip toe around, clean my teeth, vault a few baby gates along the way and finally make my way to bed where my dog has already secured a place on my side, resulting in an exchange of insults and brinksmanship between us both before I wave the white flag, squeeze myself into bed, salvage what duvet is left, tell everyone good night and just hope that I’m undisturbed until 7am the next day…
This may or may not seem full-on depending on your circumstances, but my point being is that there are in fact always ‘jobs to be done around this house’. It also needs to work so efficiently from 7am to 9pm, that my calendar has set time frames for each task. I have reminders that in 15-minutes I need to start walking the dog, execute a chore, take receipt of my son and on it goes. I haven’t quite scheduled in poop time, but given my timing is like a train on this item (maybe not British-Rail), I know exactly when to a leave 10-minute window…or half-hour, as my Wife would more accurately estimate.
All in all, I’d sooner be busy than not, but ideally not as full on as it is. In the future, hopefully my son wont be like me and I’ll have a little helper (more likely hindrance) to assist, just as I tried with my Father. “Here, just hold this wire for the lawnmower”, or if washing the car “you do the wheels, I’ll wash the body”, as I was never trusted to wash the car body, as this was a specialist task reserved for men who knew how to handle ‘the leather’. For now though, I’ll carry on…on my own with nobody helping me, “I’ll get my reward in heaven”, to yet again quote my Dad.
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