Other peoples’ chores are always so much easier than one’s own.
My Pa and I always preferred doing each others’ gardening to doing our own. I’m spending the weekend helping the one I don’t live with to sort his stuff out before he moves. I’ve thoroughly enjoyed the whole process; even buying a vacuum cleaner for him which would normally put me into a dither of indecision (the well-known brand with bags, vs the unknown brand without …. is the extra 30 quid worth it for this one … etc).
If it was my crud we were busting, then I’d be resisting like a cat who’s just seen its vaccination form and the cat basket. Instead, I feel like Clint Eastwood right now, wandering around asking rubbish if it feels lucky.