Reason Eight: Cleanliness

A friend recently asked me if I truly believed that all gay men were the clean, rational, fashionable people that I purport that they are on this blog. Of course not. My fictional gay husband, however, is.

I once lived with a gay man that left opened cans of peaches on the living room table for weeks, had questionable fluids on his walls, and wasn't all too angered when I made him a dirty ashtray candle as a joke. He also wrapped himself with an ace bandage to appear thinner under his wife beater and ruined a kettle made for sitting on top of a wood burning stove for humidity after making tea for a friend one night. That friend is no longer with us, but when I think how much he would have not made the ideal gay husband, I have to giggle. In addition to these "flaws" though, he told a mean story, was always ready for an impromptu barbecue and, most importantly, understood that even if you are a slob, you should clean up if people are coming over.

Now, this is one trait that I wished that HH had. Despite my constant nagging about keeping the house, at the least, presentable if someone would happen to come over, HH seems to think that leaving five pairs of shoes in the living room is necessary. Above, you see HH's pair of brown dress shoes that he obtained by trading a football jersey with some man at work (I am not making this up.) HH wears these shoes about 4 times a year, but when he does, they take permanent residence on the living room floor for at least three weeks. This is added to a pair of indoor slippers, outdoor slippers, work boots, tennis shoes, summer sandals, and an old, old pair of shoes that are worn while playing drums once or twice a month. Now, when we get a call that someone is on their way, HH does not simply carry them upstairs to the closet. Instead, they are pushed against the wall or hidden in a nook. Because people obviously want to sit in a room full of your stinky shoes.

I do not try to argue that I am the cleanest person alive, but I do see the need for dusting. Not too long ago, HH told me that dusting once or twice a year wasn't a bad idea. When we first started dating, he confessed that he hadn't cleaned his kitchen floor in 4 years - the floor that I walked barefoot on. While I mopped it, though, I realized why we needed indoor slippers. I have now come to believe that HH believes that our house has a magical fairy that cleans the toilets and washes the dishes since he never offers to do either.

So, while I know that not every gay man would have an immaculate sense of cleanliness, my ideal gay husband would at least rush around to put dirty dishes in the oven when guests were coming over.