You know that magical fairy who comes in the night and washes the dishes and puts them away (gasp - all of a sudden there are clean dishes in the cabinets), who washes and dries all of the clothes and hangs them in their respective closets (oh my - a closet full of clean and pressed clothes ready for work and school!) and who tidies up the kitchen and living room so that no one trips over toys or steps on the dreaded Lego? Well, I have a secret...that fairy is me (shhh).

I do all of the housework and everyone goes about their days completely ambivalent as to what it takes to make sure that they have a clean house as well as clean clothes and dishes the next day.

But you know what? It is completely my fault.

Before my husband and I got married, he could cook, clean, wash and iron his clothes, and even knew how to mend them. He had lived on his own for years and was fully capable of taking care of himself. In fact, this was one of the things that made him attractive. However, as soon as we got married, in my eyes he became completely incompetent. He loaded the dishwasher the wrong way and didn't put the dishes up in the right spots. He didn't fold the clothes correctly. I even remember fussing at him once for vacuuming the wrong way (!?!?). He could not do anything right. And can you guess what happened? Yep. He stopped doing anything. And what's more, at that time, it was fine with me. If I did it, it got done the right way (i.e. my way).

I made him feel inadequate and incapable of performing the tasks with which he was actually willing to help me. Now that we have two boys and the housework is piling up in ways I could never imagine (I do two to three loads of laundry per day!), I have found myself burnt out and silently begging for relief. At first I would actually fuss at my husband for not helping. This was always met with the (very truthful) statement: "You won't let me help!" Ouch.

Can you believe that it actually took me a few years to piece that one together and realize that I had done this to myself? He started out helping, I alienated him and nagged and complained with each task he attempted, always telling him how it should be done. Now he doesn't help and I have the audacity to complain about it! Wow. That is sad and embarrassing to admit. We have since had several fights discussions about the housework and, swallowing my pride, I admitted that I was wrong and asked him to please help out whenever he could.

Because honestly, after ten years, two kids, and working full-time, I really don't care how the chores get done as long as they get done. Life will go on with a less-than-perfectly loaded dishwasher and the sun will rise if the shirts aren't folded exactly right.

So take it from me, before you complain about how your partner does something around the house (unless the house is in danger of being burnt to the ground while they attempt to cook dinner), remember: There are worse things than a husband who doesn't do chores exactly how you want them. For example, a husband who doesn't do chores.

Okay, I have owned up and confessed to the absurd things I have complained about. Now tell me: What ridiculous things have you yelled at your significant other about?