For 292 days I have been a resident House Husband.

I always thought after watching Mr. Mom with Michael Keaton that I would make a great Mr. Mom – or in my late years – a House Husband.  Do you know that it is an actual title and has a definition: “a house husband is a husband who does housekeeping usually while his wife earns the family income” – ouch!

There are house husband reality tv shows; house husband (from now on we will shorten to HH) Facebook accounts;   HH My Space accounts;  HH Twitter accounts;  etc.  Wow – I belong to a tribe! I should come up with a great HH tribal name…

I have learned so many things over the past 9 months.

It is good to maintain a schedule. I would be the first to tell you that I could sleep til noon without a schedule. So I still get up every morning as if I was going to work – well actually I am, except now I can work in my underwear.  I awake every morning and take the bread-winner her morning coffee before she is off to corporate land and see if there are any specific household chores or shopping list required – after all – I still need supervision.  Without daily tasks I would be like a 4-year-old left on his own in a zoo– not a pretty site.

I have become good friends with many cleaning products – they actually have a purpose – who knew?

I like Ellen much better than Oprah.

I have become excellent at ironing while watching sporting events on tv.  It is amazing how much dead time there is during a game (except soccer – but no one scores in the first half anyway).  Golf is the best ironing sport – it’s always the same picture.  Every time I look up I see a golf ball.

Commercials are great for house work. There are so many now, I can go to the bathroom, make a cup of coffee, put away a few dry dishes, put the clothes from the washer to the dryer and be back before any action was missed.  I can do enough work during a day’s worth of commercials to impress the “boss” with my accomplishments.  It helps to throw in a look of exhaustion also and always make sure the tv is off when she comes through the door.

I know when the garbage trucks come, when the mail carrier comes by, when the UPS man comes. I now know which neighbors stay home, and who cuts their grass on which days, when school kids get home, This is all very important stuff… and a little creepy…

I know when it is the best time to go to the grocery store.  When I call for a Dr.’s appointment I can say I don’t care what time – whatever.  The YMCA is never crowded during the day – just a lot of old men. Lunch time is not a good time to visit the animal shelter, or the car wash.

Did you know there is a reason why the tag on clothes states “wash in cold water with LIKE colors in delicate cycle”.   Come on – we can develop 3D televisions – can’t we make all clothes be washable together?? I owe my “boss” a new white blouse.

I have not yet fallen prey to a strict routine i.e. laundry on Monday, cut grass on Tuesday, ironing Wednesday, mop kitchen on Thursday – oh my, I think I have…  Since I do get time off for good behavior,  getting a call to go golfing does bugger up a set routine.

Being a HH has affected my golf game, and for that I apologize to my golf buddies.  The angst of not having a “real” job makes me more angry on the course (well, it can’t “make me” but I use it as an excuse).   I briefly started to throw my clubs, and began to also throw out a few more colorful “adjectives” while playing.  I recently realized how stupid and disrespectful I had become (when one of my thrown clubs slipped and hit one of my friends) and am changing back to my usually moronic but kinder self.  But, I can explain the best temperature to iron rayon while lining up a putt!

I have learned so much as a HH, but would gladly give up my tribal membership for another chance on the other side…oh wait I have to go – the timer on the clothes dryer just rang – can’t let them stay in there and get all wrinkled now can I…