In a study that analyzed the roles of 4,500 heterosexual married couples in the United States, researchers found that when women handled the cooking, cleaning and shopping, and men did yard work and car maintenance, they had more active sex lives.
“The results show that gender still organizes quite a bit of everyday life in marriage,” Julie Brines, a University of Washington (UW) associate professor of sociology and a co-author of the study, said in a statement. “In particular, it seems that the gender identities husbands and wives express through the chores they do also help structure sexual behavior.”
The findings, which are published in the American Sociological Review journal, showed that couples with traditional roles at home had sex 1.6 times more per month than those in which the husband did all the traditionally female work.
Now I happen to not mind helping out around the home and I’m fairly skilled at it, so never really think too much about it. But I did sit back for a minute and actually think things through today and….
…well I do help out…
…but I really am a bit of a sexist pig in the way I do house work.
Let me give examples.
I do all my own personal laundry. Jennifer does all her own personal laundry. We’ll happily switch things from the washer to the dryer if it’s the other person’s stuff, but we don’t really start it. I tend to wash the bedding and towels more than she does. Admittedly that’s my man juice everywhere, so I guess we better count everything my cum hits as my personal laundry. Also don’t sit in my chair. Just sayin’.
Anyway…
I don’t touch the girls laundry. Don’t know why. That’s up to Jennifer and the girls to figure out. Just not my problem.
The lawn. Okay I’m not crazy lawn proud, but I’m the one that mows the lawn. I’m totally sure Jennifer could push the mower around the lawn and do a fine job. I just don’t care for that kind of insubordination. That’s my job.
Likewise when it’s time to shovel snow, I totally don’t mind Jennifer helping out, but it’s still my show. I’m going to do the heavy stuff the plow-trucks have compacted at the end of the driveway. She can do the steps and around the recycling bins and stuff. Because you know how women worry a cardboard box may be wasted and the planet might instantly turn into a WALL-E level environmental nightmare.
I vacuum far more than she does because frankly it’s just easier for me, using Upper Body Strength (TM) to move chairs and tables out of the way. Plus I vacuum one-handed. That’s all a woman really needs to know about me really. That’s right ladies, I vacuum one-handed… a strong, steady back and forth motion.
Jennifer does this thing with clipping coupons and being part of some women’s circle swapping coupons. I know it saves us a curiously large amount of money, but honestly I can’t quite follow exactly how it all works, and I worry it’s really some sort of ponzi scheme. When the shit hits the fan I’m just going to plead the fifth and hope Jennifer gets out of jail before we run out of the 640 rolls of toilet paper the grocery store paid her $6.40 to buy from them last November. (Jennifer: Yeah, yeah, just for the record I’m not that bad. Nobody’s going to invite me to be on Super Coupon Ladies Don’t Have Room in the House for Their Husbands Because of All of That Toilet Paper or whatever that show is…)
In the kitchen things are a little more free flow. I like cooking, but somehow it’s Jennifer’s job to decide what’s for dinner as the default. It tends to be me muscling in and taking over for a night of cooking more than her asking for help. Likewise on the nights she works late, I handle dinner no issue. I’m the one that authorizes takeout rather than cooking something, though we do that less and less over time.
Jennifer is the one that plans grocery shopping, though I do like going along and I tend to be the one hunting for the choice meat on sale or whatever when I go. Which she doesn’t mind because it sorts out a few meal choices for her. Women really do hate deciding whats for dinner.
So all in all… I really don’t think Jennifer is worn out from catering to me or anything like that. It’s fairly even, just not equal. I really am doing something around the house frequently…
…I’m just doing it in a sexist manner.
Okay pro tip time.
You can do anything in house domestic chore-wise and pull off a male vibe by (1) using up cleaning wipes like you own stock in the company, (2) the obvious placement of an adult beverage on the kitchen counter, (3) moving chairs from one room to another to vaccum/mop (just trust me on this one) and most importantly….
….(4) Truly obnoxious decibel levels of metal / hard rock / fuck you music driving her out of your face.
That’s right. I’m scrubbing out the kitchen sink with baking soda. CLICK CLICK BOOM!
And don’t let her boss you around doing something you already know perfectly well how to do.


