Knotted for a whole month.

It's been a month to the day since I tied the knot.

I figured that if I were to ever have to show my children either A.) where it all went wrong or, more likely, B.) how it all went right, then this would be a good place to start looking. I will be able to say "Ah, yes, around month 54, he stopped leaving his socks on the bathroom floor in little balls. THAT'S when things greatly improved." Then my children will say "Yes, but he's not worn socks since then. He's a flip-flop guy now."

And that will explain EVERYTHING.

But, it's month one and, unlike mothers who blog monthly about their children, no one is teething. No one is learning the ABCs and my goodness no one is being potty-trained. So don't expect anything as witty and fun. This is marriage. And according to the marriage counselor we had to talk to before we got married (who, by the way, has never been married), this is hard work.

Month 1: Ah. So you didn't really doooo them.

Dave's doing laundry. I'm doing dishes. Dave does garbage. I dust and vacuum and sweep. Dave changes the batteries in the TV remote and takes out recycling to the garage. I clean the bathrooms. And so on.

But we're learning the power of bargaining. Or so I thought.

I heard the dishes being clanked around in the sink last Sunday, and thought "If I sit here quietly, he'll do them JUST TO BE NICE." Because it was a Sunday, and I had to work at 1, and he had some extra time. I went back to reading my book.

That night, he asked me to put away laundry. Clearly one of his tasks, the newlywed in me was saying. "Um, OK," my married self was saying. I said, joking, "So THAT'S why you did dishes. You wanted me to do the laundry." Laughing, ha ha, laughing.

He kind of shook his head and stammered, "Oh. No. I didn't really dooo dishes. I put them in the dishwasher."

The dishwasher, which we don't use because it's small, it overturns cups and bowls and leaves dirty, sediment-filled water in them that renders them good for nothing but another go-round in the sink, and it actually takes way more effort to remember that there are dishes in the dishwasher than it takes for me to actually just wash them myself.

"Oh. I thought ..." I opened the dishwasher to count the dirty-water-filled cups -- four, by the way -- and then I gingerly closed it and coughed. Um. Now what, marriage counselor? Huh? Now what.

But I put away laundry after all. I mean, I think the bathroom drain may need some attention, and I may just be able to fold some socks to get out of doing that one.