I made a a fabulous dinner last night. Chicken alfredo with my special homemade sauce...it's been known to make a station full of firefighters sing in ecstasy...it's that good!
After our meal, the kids (are they still kids? Three teenagers and a young adult?) cleaned the kitchen. And htey did an excellent job. They cleared the table, loaded the dishwasher, swept the floor, wiped the counters, even hand-washed the pots and pans.
When I went to bed, my kitchen was sparkling.
Don't you LOVE waking up to a clean kitchen? Isn't there just something cheerful and satisfying about starting the day off fresh??
Can you imagine my disgust when I walked into the kitchen this morning to find garlic bread crumbs strewn all over the counters. (Yes, they were strewn. I thought maybe they were flung. Or even scattered. Littered maybe. But after further investigation, no, they were actually strewn. It was that bad.) Anyway, back to my rant...gralic bread crumbs strewn across the counters. A plate, which had previously held my son's dinner (because he wasn't home when we ate) was resting amid the crumbs...alfredo sauce glopped (It was glopped, I checked.) onto the counter and all the noodles missing. Empty plastic containers tumbled out of the cabinet above the dishwasher and into the floor. Plastic wrap oozed (It definitely ozzed) out of its box and into the mess.
I was shocked.
Well, not really. It's happened before. And no, it wasn't my children.
It was my forty-four year old husband. Making something to take for his lunch at work. He always claims that he was in way too big of a hurry to bother cleaning up behind himself, but I know the real problem.
He just doesn't care.
He obviously assumes that I wake up every morning wishing there was something...some random, menial grunt-work kind of task that I could tackel right away...just to prove my self worth. Some way that I could justify my place in this world. Some job that I could do in order to make up for the oxygen I waste on a daily basis.
And since he cares so much, and wants to be sure I feel needed...he leaves his underwear wherever he walks out of them. He leaves his wet towel on the foot of the bed that I'm still in! He leaves the hanger from his work uniform in the floor so that I can step on it and get my foot tangled in it and trip. He leaves beard trimmings and toothpaste in the sink just for me! He leaves the closet doors open and he always slams the door when he leaves.
He's so thoughtful!
But the absolute BEST thing that he does?
The way that I know he loves me beyond all reason?
The way he leaves behind utter destruction in my kitchen at least twice a week.
I'm going to show my appreciation right back to him. I'll make a special effort this week!
I will not be washing his underpants or socks. I'm going to hide the clean towels, too. His beard trimmer will be going on vacation. I may even hide his toothbrush...after I scrub the bathtub with it.
And he can find his own dinner, too. If he's smart, he'll eat it outside before he comes into my house!
I know that you love me, and I want you to know that I love you, too. I need you to understand, though, that I love you much differently than I do my children. I was SUPPOSED to clean up behind them...when they were small. You'll notice I don't do it much any more?? That's because they're all BIG boys and girls now. And you? You moved out of Mommy's house long, long ago, dear. Mommy doesn't come here and wipe up your messes. Your magic clean-up fairy hasn't shown up lately, either. I think she's on strike.
We are rapidly approaching retirement years, honey. If you really do plan to live happily on many acres with me forever and ever...and not reside in a concrete box by yourself six feet UNDER the acres....I strongly suggest you know off the Humongous Toddler on a Rampage Act. I'm tired of it! I do not like finding your messes. I'll be waking you up a little earlier than your alarm clock will...just so you can have a few extra minutes to make things right!
Your WIFE...not your MAID!