I Love My Man

I've been telling Jeff for a while now that I want him to clean the tub.

Just once.

So he knows the torture I go through every time I have to pull out the toothbrush and the most toxic chemicals known to man and try to scrub out the orange and black mold that festers inside of those stupid little jet hole things only to get less than impressive results. I just wanted him to feel my agony so he would more fully appreciate my labors. I didn't think he would actually do it.

The other day when I was feeling sick, Jeff told me to go soak in the tub to which I replied, "I can't...it's disgusting." "Oh yeah," he said.

He disappeared for a while and later came to me all smiles and said that he had scrubbed the tub and to come and look! I looked. I held back the perfectionist in me and was just grateful that he had tried so hard. Then he told me that he had used the dish scrubber brush to clean it with. Again, I used restraint and just had to laugh at his ingenuity.

Then last night I asked him to get the clothes out of the drier. He also ended up putting a new load in the washer, which I retrieved today. I found all sorts of colors in there that I wouldn't have put together, but it helped me get one more load of laundry done and the colors didn't really matter.

And as I've been typing this, Jeff has been getting Hudson in his jammies and brushing his teeth, getting him ready for bed. He also made dinner tonight after he came home from a long days work to a still pretty messy house, a wife in cut off sweats with hairy legs, undone hair, and a flabby belly. And this guy still tells me I'm hot and he loves me. He does so much for me and I don't know what I'd do without him. He may not do household chores perfectly or the way I would do them, but he does them. And I sure enjoyed soaking in that "almost" clean tub. It was perfect to me.

I am one lucky girl.

Thanks, babe. I love you. You're the best.