house meeting on mother's day

Last night Nicole (The Roommate), The Other Roommate, and I had a house meeting. Normally I'd be inclined to call this sort of thing a "family meeting," because doesn't a "family meeting" sounds a million times better than a "house meeting?" It's much warmer and more inclusive if it's a little family, but it surely is not.

We needed to have this coming-together, because sometimes people would go grocery shopping, and then other people would eat up the food. Or because someone would go food shopping and then ask for money to pitch in and someone would not give money. If your wondering who's who at this point, I am the shopper and The Other Roommate is the one who wants to "share" when it means other people shop, pay, and cook, and she gets to eat. Good deal for her.

So we needed to sit down and figure out some kind of system.

Fifteen minutes in, after Nicole has gone over a few of the ideas she has scribbled down on a pad, and I have agreed along the way, and voiced that I am very flexible on the food issue, I finally ask TOR (let's refer to The Other Roommate as TOR, and see how we like it) "Do you have any thoughts or feelings?"

"Um," she begins in her usual low and slow tone, sitting at the only chair pulled far out from the table. "I guess um..." dark eyes rolling to the top of her thick black rimmed glasses, "It's just that... for me" she gestures towards her slumped over chest with her sweatshirted arms "I don't want to share prepared food." Avoiding eye contact with me to her best ability she goes on "Um, I mean I..." looking towards Nicole for some sort of support, but hoping for her thoughts to come out of her roommate's mouth. "I just want to make my own food."

The beat is turned up as Nicole jumps in. "So, you want to eat the food you make, AND eat the food we make?"

The nonsense went on for about an hour from here. TOR does not want to share anything, but she has a habit of eating the last of things like mac n cheese and vanilla soy milk, so we'll see how it goes. I never saw myself as a food-labeling person, and I hope not to become one. Before we broke, I suggested that people start cleaning their dirty dishes right away. I don't think this would be earth shattering news to Regular Roommates. But since TOR has moved in, there has been an ongoing pile of dirty dishes on the counter to the right of the sink. And I can't stand it.

I didn't call her out, since I was attempting to be polite, or something. "While we're all sitting down together, I just want to ask that we all clean our dishes. It's gross to have a pile of dirty dishes." I added the second sentence because it seemed like TOR needed an explanation of why a person wouldn't be OK with dirty dishes all of the kitchen. "I understand if you're on the way to work or just not in the mood, but I think all dishes should be done within the next... 24 hours let's say."

Nicole's eyebrows lifted either out of surprise to hear me want to enact a rule, or because she knew it wasn't directed at her and thought it was amusing to address TOR's dirty-ness. "Yeah that sounds good," said Nicole as she started to jot down the new house rule. "I know I'm weird for writing everything down."

"No" I told her. "It's good. You're keeping organized."

And out of her black jungle hair, TOR submitted an "if clause." She wanted to establish a stipulation that someone (meaning someone besides her) should be responsible for putting the dishes from the drying rack into the cabinet because "I mean... for the motivation," eyes drifting through the corner of her glasses to me, and then back to Nicole "to clean the dishes."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" I thought. With that tone, but different words, I explained that "Yes, a part of washing the dishes means that you have to start by putting away clean dry dishes. It's something we all have to do. It's just a part of the process." Nicole said nothing, but reached into her brown leather purse hanging from her chair scrambling for her phone.

I stood, pushed back my chair, and was on my way back to hang out with The Boy before he heads to Denver. But before Nicole and I could make our escapes, somehow TOR put it out there that she would only mop the kitchen IF we would approve a no shoes in the house rule. At this point we had both had enough. Half heartedly we each attempted to spell out that mopping the floor is a part of kitchen duty no matter what other rules there may or may not be.

This is more hilarious because her mom (who is actually her biological aunt, but there's no time for that right now) is coming here tonight, and staying with us, on our futon, in the living room. She won't fucking mop, but then looked to me as I was walking out of the kitchen "Um Amy... the bathroom... if it was clean... because my mom is... ya know... staying here." I had an urge to slap her in the face and scream "JUST ASK ME!" But I said "OK", continued to my room, and whispered the story of the house meeting into The Boys ear and we laughed.

I have no idea what to expect in the next couple of days. This might very well end up being the worst part of being unemployed- home with TOR's mom.