That's the title of a song by The White Stripes - Rag & Bone.  Cool song.  Also the new song for the commercials for American Pickers on the History Channel.  At home, Rag & Bone is also used to refer to when I'm ragging.  Which is currently.  Yay for being a goddamn woman. 
 
So this week hubby and I nearly went at it real good.  See, up until August, I had been unemployed for the last two years.  Yes, I spent a lot of my time on my ass playing video games.  But I also did the cooking, the cleaning, the laundry, etc etc.  Now, I'm back to working full time, and my husband is currently at home because he's in the off season.  Who do you think does the cooking, the cleaning, the laundry, etc etc? 
 
Here's how it happened.  Monday night I go to bed around midnightish.  My normal bedtime when I'm playing WoW.  (Otherwise it would be an hour or so earlier.)  The hubby has been screwing his sleep schedule up all over the place so I think he was up all night Monday night, and came to bed just as I was getting up for work Tuesday morning.  Something like that.  Because the dogs knew he was up, they didn't let me sleep and wanted to be out with him.  Fine, I let them out of the bedroom, and figured he'd watch them. 
 
I really should know better after twelve years. 
 
My daughter and I get up Tuesday morning to get ready for school and work.  We walk into the living room and lo and behold, there are three huge piles of dogshit in the middle of the living room floor.  Greeeaaaat.  So I have my daughter pick up two of the piles (hey, that's what kids are for!).  She asked if she should pick up the third, and I said no... let's leave it, see if your father notices and/or picks it up.  After all, I wasn't going to be home for another 11-12 hours.  I'd imagine he'd notice it by then, right?  Right? 
 
So... I get home, and of course it's still there.  He never noticed it.  He even tried to pin it on the kid, tried telling me that it must have happened that afternoon after she got home, while she was responsible for watching the dogs.  I told him I knew that wasn't the case because it was there that morning.   So he gets all mad at me for (a) not making her pick it up that morning, (b) treating him like a kid and trying to teach him a lesson, which of course he didn't learn. 
 
That's when we got into the "You don't do shit while you're at home not working, and I have to do all the same stuff around here whether I'm working or not" fight. 
 
This fight comes around about every 6 months or so.  I know my husband is lazy when it comes to doing stuff around the house.  I know I'm not likely to change that.  But that doesn't mean I'm not going to bitch about it every so often.  Just like I fully expect he's going to give me a ration of shit on the nights where I decide I don't want to cook because I'd rather be playing WoW. 
 
Ah well.  Eff it.  I'm allowed to be bitchy this week.