I've done almost all of the cooking in my home for over thirty years. My wife cleans up after me quite often, but I clean up after myself quite a bit too. We divide up a lot of the chores. For instance, she did the laundry yesterday, but I cut the yard and also got on my knees and scrubbed the kitchen/dining area floor.
(And who knew that Chai could be so catty?)
My ex and I had a natural cooking routine that virtually never caused problems, we were somehow lucky on that. When I cooked he cleaned up, when he cooked I cleaned up. We liked each others cooking and explored cooking different kinds of cuisine. He was a better cook than me, orchestrating whole meals around themes often quite subtlely. On the balance of effort and praise, the only difference was that I tend to clean as I go when cooking, so he had less to do afterwards. No complaints on that, I knew I was lucky.
When we remodelled, it was a tricky business. We got along really well during what is an infamous time for marriages falling apart.. although it did fall apart later, at this point we were fine. I did the designs at work, brought them home, we pored over them, he usually came up with good ideas, we nursed the design until we were both satisfied with what we would do, I'd go back and change the detail, and eventually we got started doing the work. He did some handyman work when he was in college and was certainly strong. Trouble was, his eye for vertical and horizontal wasn't very true, and his sense of good enough was quite firm. Mostly I let it go, unless it could be easily fixed - I'd learned from his reluctance to fix it, even when it would be easy, to watch my mouth, and pick my "battles". I tried not to use a critical tone at all. On a landscape construction job with clients I don't let things go if I am doing site observation. But between man and wife, correction is touchy. Thus for years after our remodel, each time I looked at the refrigerator, the apricot colored fin wall next to it tilted...
Having built some things myself and torn them out again, I know the emotions that happen even when no one else is telling you that you screwed up, however nicely. When you get something done and realize it's wrong, the last thing on earth you feel like in that first few minutes is ripping it out. By the next day I'd be over it and more than happy to rip it out and get it right.
