Pretty Much Wife Swap

As you may or may not know, I tend bar at a local watering hole once a week. I have been there for 5(?) years. I started out bartending to make extra money for shoes and booze, and then when Little Man came along my extra money started going toward diapers and noodles (all he eats). I love where I work. I get the same crowd every week and they have become like my Thursday night family.
For the last year or so, two young couples have been coming in like clockwork. The husbands sit together and drink too much beer while the wives chit chat about work and Survivor. They are some of my favorite customers.
Last night, one of the wives D was complaining about her too neat husband. Apparently, he does not greet her at the door until he finishes cleaning their room. I nearly fell off of my three inch heal. To hear a woman complaining about how her husband is obsessed with windex and swiffers, was like hearing a celebrity complain about getting special treatment...it was unjust, is what it was.
I told her that I wanted to kill her and steal him, and then I remembered that I actually do love my slovenly Pretty Much Hubby, I just didn't love his content in living in animal like surroundings. So I suggested a wife (or in my case a Pretty Much Wife) swap. It would be perfect, I would sit in their immaculate living room, watching Survivor, while her hubby cleaned around me. There would be no picking up of flung noodles, no nagging about ice cream bowls left on the coffee table and jeans in the dining room (he actually leaves pants on the floor of the dining room, I **** you not!), I would be left in peace..peace that smells like pinesol and Glade.
D on the other hand would be thrown into a world with no resemblance to the tidy world she is used to. It would have to be a tuesday, so that the hard work that the cleaning lady did on Friday would be a thing of the past. She would remove the toys and tools from the couch to try and sit and watch Survivor. Little Man would not be impressed with her lack of interest in him and would climb on her lap, head, right in front of her view of the TV. He would demand that she read the same book, 15 times. Pretty Much Hubby would come home and take off his work clothes and leave them in a heap on the dining room floor. He would see that she really wasn't watching Survivor (because she is reading the monkey book) and he would change it to the Discovery Channell to watch Ice Road Truckers. At the commercial he would take his socks off and drop them next to the recliner. D would decide that feeding Little Man might distract him enough so that she could check her email, as she gets up from the couch PMH would ask her for a bowl of ice cream that he will later put on the dining room table on his way to the shower where he will use up all the hot water and leave his towel on the floor.
In the meantime, I will ask D's hubby if we can just get take out, because I am not in the mood for cooking. He will gladly agree, offer to pick it up and will stop and buy me a bottle of wine on the way home. We will decide to stay in for the night because of the Rock of Love Marathon on VHI. We will eat take out- that her Husband will put on nice plates for us. He will then clean my plate so that I don't miss the Chick fight that is about to happen in Brett Michaels tour bus.
D will realise that my PMH and Little man have gone to bed. She will look around her and for a second she will think that she has traded places with a house mother at a fraternity house. She will spend an hour cleaning up the frat house, so that she won't have to do it in the morning (yeah right!). At this point the only thing that is on TV is an episode of CSI Miami and the second David Caruso comes on the screen she will pick up a smelly sock off of the floor and throw it at his head, because at 11pm, while cleaning someone elses mess, his acting skills are enough to ensure her a slot on the next episode of Snapped.
All the while, I will go to bed in the hotel like guest room, where her hubby will have placed a chocolate on my pillow. I will not eat the chocolate because I drank my extra weight watchers points for the week, but I will smile at the gesture and turn in. I will sleep 10 hours, without interuptions.
D will get out of bed three times to refill Sippy cup. On her way to the kitchen she will trip on the John Deer tractor sitting on the kitchen floor. She will open the fridge to get the milk and not be able to find it because my PMH will have left it on the counter. She will curse my life and beg for her anal retentive husband back, and I will have to reluctantly give him back.