Today I complained about how the men around here don’t do their share, keeping the house up. The soldier listened carefully and then told me it was entirely my fault for not commanding my troops well enough… or for that matter, not commanding them at all.
“You can’t expect a man to know what to do if you don’t tell him what to do,” he insisted. “There is no one here who won’t do whatever you want us to do but you have to come up with what it is you want us to do. Write it down! Then if it’s not done you can say, do it motherfucker, it’s just job! It’s says so right there,” he said pointing his finger at the hologram lists of chores. Now get off you ass and do what you’re supposed to do!”
He was yelling so I stayed quiet. Really, I didn’t know what to make of this in the moment. “I don’t like to boss people.” I said. “I don’t know why you can’t have common sense. If the trash is full how come no one but me takes it out?”
“P, it doesn’t work that way. It just doesn’t. You make a list of what ever you want us to do and I promise you we’ll do it but you can’t get all pissed off at a man for not doing things you have not taught him and trained him to do and it makes me mad you’d even complain about this. We’ll do our job as soon as you do yours which is to tell us what our job is. Who runs this house? You do! I know you don’t like to boss people but if you don’t nothing is going to get done and I don’t want to hear you complain about it either. It makes me mad, P. It makes a man mad he’s in trouble for not doing something he doesn’t even know he’s supposed to do.”
(a little insight into men for y’all)