All the Wrong Moves
In a world of fast-paced people too busy to slow down and pitch in when needed, it is rather nice to have a husband who is willing to lend a helping hand when least expected. (Cough).
Last night, after having worked an eight-hour day, I prepared and served dinner. I clean as I go so after dinner the only dirty dishes to be washed consisted of two bowls, two spoons and two glasses. Feeling waves of exhaustion, I decided I would wash them up the following morning before going to work.
From there I made my way to the bathroom and as I washed my face and brushed my teeth, I realized as soon as I put my head on the pillow I would be fast asleep. I was so tired. After changing into my pajamas (a Wal-Mart rayon blend, which I would wear 24/7 if I could), I headed to the kitchen one last time for a small glass of orange juice. It seems I just won’t be satisfied unless I’m up three times a night getting rid of excess fluids, to put it nicely.
Low and behold, my dear husband had cleaned out the refrigerator for me. It would appear I married the original good deed-doer but before you say, “Aw…how sweet,” let me interpret this favor for you. His part of the favor doing consisted of setting four Tupperware bowls and some cookware he had brought home from work on the kitchen counter for me to clean out and wash the following morning.
Golly gee, he shouldn’t have and I hope he never does again.
Being the epitome of a sweet, southern wife, naturally I pitched a near-midnight twit-fit, which caused him to scurry off to bed with dog in tow to play possum. I, on the other hand, washed all of the dishes. Not only did I wash them, you could hear every item I washed, excluding glassware, because of the loud banging sound that echoed as I set them aside to dry.
Having closed down the kitchen for the second and final time for the evening, I pounded my way back to the bedroom and explained, once again, that had he really wanted to help out, it would be nice if he had actually completed the ‘work’ part of the favor.
Actually, he did come into the kitchen (he is so brave) at one point to say he would take over the dish washing, or dish-attacking – however you want to view it, responsibilities but feeling rather self-righteous I gave a resounding, “No!”
Boy – that showed him!
After retiring to bed, I began to consider how hard he had worked during the day, not only at his business but the tireless extra hours he was putting into remodeling our new house, which we will be moving into this spring. I realized I had married Superman after all, but I still have no desire to be Wonder Woman. However, I can make certain exceptions.
Just don’t expect me to don a ‘Lynda Carter’ outfit and fly an invisible plane. The plane wouldn’t get a foot off of the ground before ripping apart and neither would the outfit.
