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My husband Nathan and I are friends with another couple who drive us crazy. It's frustrating to be around them because they bicker all the time about work:

"The baby needs changing."

"I changed him last."

"But I gave him a bath!"

"TAKE THE DOG OUT!"

"I"M COOKING DINNER! YOU TAKE THE DOG OUT!"

"Did you pick up my dry cleaning?"

"Why should I pick up your dry cleaning? You never"

It just goes on and on. I can only imagine what sex must be like between them:

"It's your turn to be on top."

No, it's your turn. I was on top last time!"

"Yea, but I "

You get the picture! This is a marriage disaster in the making. Nathan and I adhere to very arcane sexual stereotypes which help us to avoid arguments over the workload. I clean, cook, do laundry, and scrub dirty kids while he pays bills, cares for the cars and lawn, removes ticks, and takes out the trash. Nonetheless, you'd be just as likely to see Nathan scrubbing a floor or me mowing the lawn if that's what needs doing at the time. This weekend Nathan cleaned out the refrigerator because it was teeming with pharmaceutically-suited food. And last night, Nathan, who can sleep through three little girls performing The Nutcracker on his bed at noon, climbed out of bed as he pushed me back into it every time somebody cried.

Even though our jobs are generally defined, neither of us would ever tell nor ask the other to do something. Nathan would never ask or tell me to iron his shirt even though that's a task I always do. If he needed an ironed shirt, he would just get out the iron, hold the shirt up to the television or wall, and iron more wrinkles into it himself. I would never tell Nathan to take out the trash if he'd forgotten. I'd simply let it pile up and stink on the side of the house until the next week.

When I was first married, I was mystified by the expert advice you hear all the time, "marriage is hard work." I used to wonder, what exactly is the work? Give me a checklist or a job description and I'll do it! It dawned on me last night, as Nathan and I worked side by side, exactly what the hard work is. It's the cleaning out the fridge, rocking the baby in the middle of the night, ironing shirts, scooping dog (and child) poop, and cooking salmon when you hate it work. It's wanting your partner to have a little free time or fun or sleep more than you want it for yourself.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that there are two kinds of people: there's the person who takes the best piece of steak and there's the person who makes sure the best piece of steak goes to the person he loves. The secret to a great marriage is to marry the guy who leaves the best steak for you, and to be the girl who only offers her guy the best piece of steak. What I know for sure is that I am truly the luckiest girl around, because I married a vegetarian.

Learn more about this author, Meg Leventhal.
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