I Need a Wife

A few weeks ago I was in the kitchen cooking breakfast when my husband walks in to get his water bottle and coffee and leave for work. He kisses me and lays a parking ticket on the counter. "Can you get this paid, honey?" "Sure," I replied. He thanked me and left. That's when I had this epiphany. I am my husband's personal assistant. Really and truly. He works LONNNG days, he leaves the house around 7 and doesn't get home until 6:30 or 7 and sometimes later than that. I am not upset about it. He is a hard worker and I like to eat. I leave at 7 but an usually home by 4:30 and come home for an hour in the middle of the day for lunch - so by default I do most of the housework and make sure things are running smoothly.

I make doctors appointments, pay the bills, grocery shop, cook the meals, get the kids to and from school and do miscellaneous things like write checks for parking tickets. I call my husband to remind him of appointments and kids events. He can take my place but only as long as he has specific directions. He also can clean the house like a mo-fo if he is motivated. I do need to give him credit for that. We do need to sit down one of these days and hand over some of the tasks and duties because God forbid something happened to me. Like the other day he asked if we have a copy of his DD-214. "It's where we keep all the important papers." "Where is that?" Really? They have been in the same place since forever. I retrieved it in my personal assistant type of manner anyway.

Yesterday, I came home from work and iced and decorated 56 cupcakes, made dinner, signed homework books, made a few candles, did the dishes and updated my calendar. By the time I was finished I laid in bed and stared at the ceiling and attempted to ignore my children. My husband walked into the room from work and said, "What's wrong?" I didn't even sit up, "I need a wife." He laid down next to me and laid his head on my shoulder, "It is pretty awesome. I appreciate everything you do. I would be so lost and disorganized without you." Then he paused and said, "Now get back to the kitchen and make me a sandwich - you wench." Just kidding- he didn't really say that. I would have found it amusing. We just stared at the ceiling together for while and thought about absolutely nothing. It was glorious.