Playing the Game

Maverick and I have a pretty good system for managing two full-time careers and raising two young daughters. We split the morning routine, each taking care of one kid; and in the afternoons, he gets the girls from school, entertains them for a while and then feeds them. When I get home from work, I finish up the nighttime routine of homework, baths, books and bed.

I do the laundry, he takes the dry cleaning. I do the lunches, he does dinner. He manages the finances, the house maintenance, pest control, the landscaper and the pool. I do the shopping, miscellaneous errands, and daily house straightening. I do the scheduling of doctor’s appointments, vet visits, dental cleanings, babysitter and weekend plans. He does all the “daytime” things that I can’t get to and I do all the other things he deems is “my job.” We share the dog responsibilities and taking out the trash. …And so on…and it works for us, usually.

Every so often we get into a pissing match of my least-favorite game, called “Who does more?” Every married or cohabitating couple plays. All you need to get started is to pick out something in your relationship that feels uneven and you want acknowledgement for. There’s no minimum to how small the uneven “thing” can feel. It can be as insignificant as who cleans the orange juice ring left in the sink.

One player goes first and calls out, “I do everything around here! I did X today and Y and Z!” The other person counters with, “What? I did A, B and C! Not to mention that yesterday, I also did X and Y and Z!” The game continues until one player “wins” by beating the other player down to beg for mercy, ask for forgiveness or thank the winner profusely for all he or she has done.

As competitive as I am, for the first twelve years of my relationship, I always went for the win. Sometimes, I’d even continue “playing” long after my Maverick left the game. Now, I’m just tired of playing it and often accept defeat for peace.

The last few days, Maverick has been grumbling about me under his breath. We're playing the "Who does more?" game in silent mode. I know what he's thinking but I didn't engage him in the conversation. I didn't want to. I'm tired. I'm busy. I've been dizzy. I'm just not in the mood to play.

Finally this morning, Maverick started round one. However, instead of the opening line, he began by uncovering a new strategy to the game. He jumped right in without the usual banter and went right for the kill with the "Martyr" card. The martyr card played out like this:

Me: “I’m going in late to the office so I can register Camryn for kindergarten today.”
Him: “Why didn’t you just ask me to do that?”
Me: “Because I can do it. I thought I'd take care of it first so I don't have to bother you with doing it.”
Him: “Why not? I do everything else around here.”

So now, instead of trying to make me feel guilty and/or thankful for how much he does, he’s offered to willingly “do it all” to play his martyr trump card. And of course, the martyr is an automatic win.

The truth is we both have to do what we have to do to keep our family and house running. We have to stop keeping track and just get it done. Sometimes I do more, sometimes he does more. I hear the same game being played daily with all my friends. And we’re all tired of it, yet we can’t seem to find a way to stop the pattern.

Next time, I’m going to try ending the game before it begins. I’ll say: Maverick, you can pass go, and collect your $200. Thanks for playing. Oh, and can you pick up my prescription while you’re out?