Signalling on the road

Do you notice bumper stickers? I do. Not only bumper stickers. But also other "signalling instruments" in/on cars. Sometimes they are entertaining. Some examples:

A name of some top university abroad = I went abroad and I have brain.
A name of god-knows-where university abroad = I went abroad and I didn't even need a brain.
A name of domestic, state university = I was on subsidy.
A name of domestic, private university = My parents are rich. Call me.
"Baby on board" sign = Don't rear-end my car, I have baby. Go rear-end others.
A Harley Davidson sticker = I'm a biker, I'm cool.
A military or police badge/insignia = Stay away, me first. (Or: Hey, we're family, don't stop me).
Red-numbered license plate = Who needs licence and traffic rules?
Yellow-numbered license plate = Who needs traffic rules?
B 1 XX = Try me, Idiot!
"My other car is YYY" sticker = I'm cheap bastard.

....

If she can do it really well, she doesn’t do that

We’d been living only the two of use for almost one year. We’d got used to take care of our needs on our own (or more precisely: I could take care of myself, and Aco could himself). We managed to collaborate on weekends, though: I prepare special breakfast, Aco did the laundry. In the afternoon I fold the dried clothes, Aco washed the dishes. Or something like that.

Until a woman knocked at our door one Sunday morning. She said she could be of help: washing dishes, laundering and ironing clothes, etc., for a reasonable pay. I thought, OK, we could give her a try.

So she comes every Sunday morning. She does exactly what she promised: washing dishes, laundering and ironing clothes, plus cleaning floor and bathrooms. Only less than I expect. On all those activities, I, or even Aco, can do a lot better.

I gather, our dining sets have some stain intact. The clothes are not shiny. The floor is too wet. And the ironing isn’t perfect either. I can’t really enjoy the infotainment on TV, because I always have to tell her what to do and what not to do. That function goes to Aco when I think I deserve extra Sunday morning sleep. And he usually complains (“I want to blog”).

I discussed this with Aco one day. He told me, those things should have been predictable – those “less than expected” results from the woman helper. He argued, if she could be really good in all those activities, she would have not appeared knocking on our door in the first place. Because she should have valued her labor higher and demanded higher wage. As a result, she would have applied for a better position, say as a manager in a hotel launderette. With a pay rate that we would not be willing to agree with, as a price for our enjoying our Sunday morning. Working as a helper in our house might be the best the woman can do. Even if her best is not our best. (Aco says, this is the comparative advantage principle)

I think that’s true.