Marriage is not a 50/50 arrangement, but a division of labor arranges itself. I cooked, but
rarely washed dishes. I washed baby bums, but not cloth diapers. I brought things into the
house, but did not take them out. When you are single, who takes over when you're tired
and hungry and have to pee and the baby has just spit up the only food you've managed to
get him to eat all afternoon? Who carries the heavy grocery bags while you carry the baby?
Who scratches your back? Who zips the zipper on your dress? Who pokes you when you’ve slept through the alarm? Who takes out the trash, or kills the bugs? Singles have to tackle all these tasks on their own. This can be exhausting and frustrating and sometimes a little sad and lonely. Frances Mayle remarked that the most surprising thing about divorce is that it doesn't kill you. Yet, there are small joys in single-hood. When you live alone you can drink milk from the carton. Singles never have to close the bathroom door or wear robes. I especially enjoy leaving my shoes all around the house. I control the volume on the television. No one squeezes the toothpaste in the middle but me. I can listen to Madonna or NPR without complaints. No one uses my towel or eats my cookies. I do still share the bed, but my current bedmate is much smaller than the previous and doesn't complain if I snore. I zip my own zippers. I take out my own trash. I carry all the groceries.