The fallibility of statistics when applied to housework and husbands

I came home to find that I had won our latest Mexican Standoff. The dishes were done (sweet joy!), but there was a small debris pile on the counter by the stove.

“Dude!” I called to hubby from the kitchen (after thanking the man for backing down first – of course). “You can’t have broken two cups doing the dishes once. That’s a statistical impossibility!”

“Not when you drop one cup on the other one. Oh, and we need new dish gloves too – one of the fingers ripped open.”

Sound logic, sure, but the man had no explanation for his forth casualty; discovered the next day, when I was only three inches away from slicing my lip open on its splintered glass rim.

Well, I suppose I now know why it’s always the bull in the china shop, and never the steer – statistically speaking…

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3 Responses to The fallibility of statistics when applied to housework and husbands

  1. Liz Johns says:

    You don’t suspect that it was a ploy by your husband. Making a mess so that you’d take over the dish-washing duties once again?

  2. Cymbria says:

    I did ask at the time… and I got a very suspicious “nooooo” back from the living room.
    “And you’d better not be making THAT face out there!”
    “Nooooooo” echoed dear hubby, even more suspiciously.

    We both knew exactly what face I was talking about – that fiendish ‘who? little ol’ me?’ bit of mischievousness.

    humph. men.

    (He gets the benefit of the doubt… this time round lol)

  3. […] girl. I’ve turned the task into an archeological dig and you can be sure I always try to pawn them off on dear ol’ hubby. And yes, in times of utter desperation, I’ve even resorted to […]

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