The distribution of labour

There’s a dead mouse on the kitchen
floor and I can’t bring myself to get rid of it.  The thought of picking it up fills me with revulsion.  
It’s not that I haven’t removed dead
mice before but if I can leave it for my husband to remove I will. 
I thought about the issue of who is
to remove the unwanted stuff the other day when I was cleaning up after the dog
had peed on the kitchen floor.  The
dog had freaked out because the rain outside was heavy.  Whenever there’s heavy rain the dog refuses to venture outside to pee. 
The point of telling you this is
not to revolt you at the idea of a dog peeing on the kitchen floor –
another thing that appals me – but my observation that when it comes to the
dog’s ‘accidents’ regardless of who discovers the mess, I clean it up. 
It seems it’s my job to deal with
unwanted substances, dog and cat discharges and the like, whereas it’s my husband’s job to remove dead animals, that
is if he’s around, again irrespective of who finds the poor creature. 
I do not remember discussing these
processes, they just happen.  The
distribution of labour.  One of
those things that happens in households often unconsciously.  As long as both parties in the
arrangement are happy with their share of the load all will be well.  
Problems erupt when one or other feels
unfairly overloaded. 
Half a day later I have forgotten about the mouse imagining that my husband in his usual manner has seen it, taken
out a plastic bag, picked it up within said bag and removed it to the outside
My sister-in-law and her
husband visit and we sit down to a cup of tea when I see the mouse again. This time I point it out.  My in-laws are from the country they understand, but I lie as though it’s the first
I’ve seen of it.
‘Do I have to get rid of it?’ my
husband asks.
‘Yes please,’ I say, not owning up
to my earlier knowledge.  
I did not want to ask my husband earlier because it would have meant he’d have
to leave off reading the newspaper from several rooms away and the obvious
thing in a situation like this is for me to do the job myself.  After all I am capable and were my
husband not at home I would do it.  
I have done it before.  But
something made me leave it to him.  
The tyranny of our long established roles, perhaps, our distribution of
labour.  Dead animals his job, dog
pee, mine.  
Fair exchange?