How To Get Your Husband To Actually Do Stuff
It’s possible.
by The Candidly Team
Men are sort of idiots.
Ok fine you’re right, that was harsh. Sorry. Let’s start again.
MOST men are idiots.
Can I say that? Can we just sort of openly talk about this? I realize I’m being less poetic than our friend Eve Rodsky and maybe I should be more measured with phrases like “the invisible load of motherhood,” but what I feel on most days, during most grocery trips, most nights when I’ve sent an email and a text and reminded IN PERSON to simply “accept” the calendar invite I created for HIS dentist appointment, I just can’t dance around it any longer. And I wonder if we’re all doing this dance together.
Separately, alone, but together.
And look. WE are idiotic in some ways, too. And some husband somewhere is writing some scathing internet article about his idiotic wife right now, in service of getting other husbands to read it in order to create some bond of camaraderie, which gives way to self-reflection and ultimately serves as a tool for these men to create even deeper and more profound connections with their partners.
Oh, wait. HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA. I forgot. Men don’t read stuff like this let alone write about it. And as a result, alllllll relationship “content” is geared toward women, even when it’s about men.
Including. This. Very. Article.
We actually had a fun idea to partner with Men’s Health magazine and design the cover to be stuff like “7 Five-Minute Lunchbox Ideas” and “How to Balance Career and Kids Without Losing Your Mind” just because it would look like a dog walking on its hind legs.
So now that you’re either my best friend or clocking me as an “angry feminist,” let’s get to the point.
We need our husbands to help more. We just do.
And to be honest, I hate the word “help” because it implies that they’re assisting us. Like some kind of sous chef. But who decided this? I mean, can they reeeeeally not find the ketchup in the fridge because 1/8 of the bright red bottle is being obscured by the mayonnaise? Can this possibly be an actual truth in this life or is it some kind of grotesque learned helplessness in which they convince themselves we “like” being the person who knows where everything is?
But then, when we need their help for something (real), it feels like we’re a nag, always asking them to do something when they just want to collapse on the couch out after working all goddamn day.
So how do we get things done, maximize collaboration, and minimize mommy dynamics? Dear reader, I think I’ve cracked it. And it comes in the form of 3 simple words:
Would you mind?
It’s a question, not an assertion. It’s gentle, not annoyed. It’s a bid, not a demand.
“Would you mind taking a look at the wifi router tonight? I tried to fix it but I couldn’t figure it out.”
“Would you mind packing the kids lunches tonight while I work on the meal plans for the week?”
“Would you mind responding to that email from the school before you relax for the night? I’m just finishing up a thing for work.”
Let’s break down all of the subtle strategy genius used in the above examples:
The proposition is phrased as a question. One that, if the answer is no, would seem insane.
There is a subtle appeal to their competence which is paramount to all living men.
And lastly (my personal favorite) an almost invisible balancing of the scales by offering the work WE are doing which precludes us being able to do it ourselves to preempt the inevitable why can’t you do it retort.
Astonished that an article like this even needs to exist? Same! And while I don’t want to go too deep into the male ego such that we have to invent phrases to get them to do basic shit around the house, it’s also true that if WE are asked to do anything with implied exasperation or harsh tones, it’s a total nonstarter.
So it’s not too insane of an idea.
The key difference is though, no husband has ever had to “ask” his wife to remember to send the thank you cards. Or get the outfit ready for “crazy hat day” at school the next day.
We just do it. Without being asked.
Is this article a little bit like some mommy blog about how to sneak “puréed vegetables!” into your kids dinners and part of me feels demoralized even having to write it? Yeah. It is. And if you’re part of the younger generation, I suspect you’ll run for the hills, screaming, convinced that marriage will never be for you.
But if you’re Gen X like me, and live in the shadows between the boomers and the zoomers, maybe this deeply unsexy advice will help.
Would you mind sharing this article so more people see it?
Oh, right. I didn’t need to ask.
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