Today I had great big pile of folding to do. G does the washing and some of the folding, but not the nappies because he hates it and because I am so good at it. Indeed, I think I fold three to his one and when on a roll, I enjoy it, in a neurotic order making sort of way. Grace is fascinated by nearly everything we do, especially when it has to do with her things, her dirty washing which ends up all over the house and her nappies. Sometimes she tries to help me with the folding.
Which although very charming is sometimes not all that helpful, if I ever want to finish the task at hand. I fold, she pulls onto the floor. Turning it into a sisyphean task, but in an absurd way. Almost funny even. Today I just wanted to get it done and G took Grace outside to play in the garden, no doubt feeling a little guilty that these tasks hadn't been done during the week while he was at home and I was at work. It could also be that he is over this particular guilt, as really he is more than pulling his weight domestically at this point. Anyway, we're calling it fair.
Still, I don't want to exclude Grace from the workings of the house. I used to love folding washing with my mother. I still fold towels the way she showed me. And we would chat as the tangled mess of washing was turned into neat pile to be put away. Even as a child that appealed to my sense of order.