Remember a few days ago I was telling you about my greatly anticipated candlelit romantic dinner with hubby? The one where we were going to sit at the table for once, he was going to let me gel his hair but he still wasn’t going to wear pants?
Well something even better, even more romantic happened instead.
It did not involve gel, candles, or pants (that just sounds wrong, I apologize).
I came home late, Howie had got home early. How did Howie use those few hours of alone time? X-box you may ask? Catch up on a nap perhaps? Watch even more episodes of Survivor than what is humanly possible? The answer is none of the above.
He CLEANED AND COOKED! Not just a bit, but a LOT. When I left home that morning, dishes were everywhere, last night’s crock-pot chaos was collecting dust on the counter, and three bags of garbage were still waiting to be taken out.
I came home to the following scene:
Dishes: Washed and put away, including giant crock-pot
Dinner: Spaghetti neatly simmering in a pot on the stove, waiting to be eaten
Garbage: All gone
Laundry: First load drying, second load almost done
Bed: Made (though the pillows were still arranged wrong it was a vast improvement from last time)
Clothes: Once strewn on the floor were neatly put away
Living room: All tidy
Uncle Benjamin’s beard I was impressed! And no, we still did not eat at the table. But romance, my friends, has many forms.
Howie looked good to me that night, even without the gel.