We’re helping you finish your summer reading by asking some of our favorite authors to step in as Prudie for a day and give you advice. This is part of our Guest Prudie Series.
Today’s columnist is Kiley Reid, author of Come and get it And Such a funny agewhich was on the New York Times bestseller list and was shortlisted for the 2020 Booker Prize. Her writing has appeared in the New York Times, the Wall Street Journal, Playboy, The Guardian, and elsewhere.
We asked Reid to comment on the topic of dirty houses and pregnancy fears:
Dear Prudence,
My husband and I have been friends with a couple for about 25 years, our entire marriage. When they bought their first home more than twenty years ago, it was in an older part of town. Their house was small and crammed with beloved inherited furniture, books, and knickknacks. It was also very dirty – greasy range hood, mold in the bathrooms, and dust and pet hair everywhere. I put this down to the older house having poor air circulation and it was hard to keep up with cleaning. These friends moved to another state five years ago.
We’ve been visiting them over long weekends at this newer house that wasn’t as dirty, and I thought I was right that the old house was harder to keep clean. But now that they’ve been there for a while, this house is just as dirty as their previous one. It’s gotten to the point where we don’t want to stay at their house anymore, and we bring our own cleaning supplies for the bathroom to clean in secret. The best conversations always seem to happen spontaneously late at night and early in the morning, so staying in a hotel would reduce that closeness between our old friends. It’s easier for us to travel to see them since they have a young teenager and we’re childless. Is there a way to gently help them keep their home clean, or do we have to forgo visits?
—I don’t want to sleep with dust lint
Rather “I don’t want to sleep with dust bunnies”,
For God’s sake, you have to find a hotel.
Let’s start with their old house. When you wrote “older house” I read “lead poisoning” and when you said “poor ventilation” I heard “mold problems.” You’re being way too generous in citing the age of the house and poor air circulation as the cause of this mess. Pet hair? Everywhere? I’m not the one, and you shouldn’t be. If you ever ate anything cooked in that house, you’re probably entitled to compensation. And that’s probably true for the new house too. Same shit, different house.
To be clear, you’re not bad people for not being able to keep your home clean. Many people don’t know how to do it, and many who can just don’t have the time. Maybe your friends just have completely different standards for what cleanliness and comfort mean. But if you want to stay friends, you have to stop the secret cleaning. Because 1. they’ll find out, and when they do, they’ll be hurt. And 2. you’ll absolutely loathe them. The more messes you clean, the more you discover, and I honestly don’t want you to know what else they’re not good at.
Find a hotel. You can get up early, get bagels and coffee, and be at their house when they wake up. In the evening, you can take turns not drinking so someone can drive, or, depending on the city, you can take a cab. If you’ve been friends for over 25 years, this is one of those things that most likely won’t change. It’s much easier to change your accommodations than it is to change your friends’ cleaning habits.
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By Kiley Reid. GP Putnam’s Sons.
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Dear Prudence,
My girlfriend and I are arguing about the breakup of two long-time mutual friends, “Jane” and “Jack.” Everyone thought Jane and Jack would be married and live the perfect white picket fence life. But then an unwanted pregnancy occurred. Jack didn’t want it. Jane decided she wanted it and would keep the baby, even though she and Jack had long planned to have an abortion if something like that were to happen.
Jack acted like he was supportive, but he was obviously stressed and worried as they were living paycheck to paycheck. Jane eventually suffered an early miscarriage and Jack admitted to me that he just felt relief and that it was better that way. The problem was that Jane wouldn’t let up and kept picking fights with Jack in public – saying things like he never wanted the baby and he was a bad father. Eventually Jack freaked out and asked Jane what she wanted to hear from him as he obviously had no right to voice his own feelings on the subject. Jane berated him and Jack said they should just break up then. Jane got even angrier and it got very ugly and a lot of people took sides. My girlfriend thinks the problem was 100% Jack’s and hates that I don’t think so.
I completely agree with a woman’s right to choose, but I understand how Jack was blindsided by Jane here. I would feel the same if my girlfriend did that to me (we’ve had similar conversations about what to do if she gets pregnant). Since then, I’ve been using condoms as an additional form of birth control. My girlfriend hates that and says it makes her feel like I don’t trust her. I love her, but the lesson I’ve learned is that I don’t want to be a father right now and I need to be vigilant about that. Can we get through this situation or not?
— No joke
Dear Not Kidding,
I get the feeling that Jack and Jane were not the perfect couple before this pregnancy. If they were arguing violently in public, then I can only imagine that they had been arguing even more violently in private for a very long time. This “picket fence” label is also interesting because it suggests that they once followed these outdated ideals: comfortable middle-class life, big house, and kids. Jack and Jane lived paycheck to paycheck and never wanted children, which makes me think about the external pressure they felt to stay together despite their strong differences.
No matter what we do in certain situations, our attitudes towards family planning can and do change. In this case, it meant that Jane and Jack were no longer compatible as partners, and that was no one’s fault. In fact, I think that while it can be difficult to watch the consequences of others, it can also help to shed light on our own situation. Real-life circumstances make you ask the same question that all good art should: What if that were me? What would I do?
One of your answers is to use condoms. You have every right to use condoms without being judged for it. We cannot tell people how to use contraception. If your girlfriend felt uncomfortable having sex without condoms, it would be your responsibility to use them. The fact that there are Is The tensions surrounding this double birth control make me think this is a symptom rather than the cause, much like the pregnancy in Jack and Jane’s relationship. Adult relationships are full of choices, promises, and unexpected changes – the way you want to act in a certain situation is not guaranteed when the time comes. Perhaps this is the lesson you both learn from Jane and Jack.
You ask whether you can go through this situation or not. I’m not quite sure. What sticks in my mind here is your girlfriend’s reaction to wearing condoms. Sometimes when I’m writing a particularly important scene, I try to write it in different ways, similar to how Kierkegaard wrote Abraham and Isaac in the philosophical work Fear and trembling. If I had to zoom in on a scene about this argument between Jack and Jane, I would focus on this conversation between you and your girlfriend. In one version, your girlfriend would cringe at the mention of condoms and say things like, “Are you kidding? Did Jack tell you to do this? I shouldn’t have to suffer because of Jack!” In another version, she might probe for more information: “Are you afraid of what happened with Jack and Jane? How long has this been bothering you? Have I said anything that makes you question my attitude toward kids?” And in the third version, she might be gentle but direct: “Hey, you know I don’t like condoms, but of course we can use them whenever you want. If there’s anything I can do to make you feel more comfortable without them, let me know, because I’m in.”
I’m not sure which of these versions is closest to the real one, but it might be wise to think about what reaction you would expect from your partner and what you actually received. This is not to say that the conversation about condoms is symbolic of every future discussion the two of you will have when making important lifestyle decisions, but you should pay due attention to your partner’s reaction when they make the decisions you make about your body an issue that concerns only them.
—Kiley
When Carley Fortune was a guest, Prudie
I’m getting married in a few months and I’m so excited. I’m having the wedding of my dreams with the woman I love. Our engagement period is very short – about five or six months. I know how fast it goes. Plus, we’ve only been together and known each other for a little over a year. My siblings (all older) are so happy for me – they’re married and have kids. They love my fiancée. I also have fervent support from my parents and friends. The only problem is my sister, who is only a few years older and grew up as my best friend.
