The Good Wife
As I mentioned a few days ago, I was sick last week. I had strep throat and some kind of sinus trouble, and due to a wicked fever and powerful drugs, I found myself in bed for a few days. Fortunately, I have my new laptop and so I got caught up on writing and got to play with my new homeschool software (more about this later!).
Unfortunately, I have come to a sickening realization. My husband is a better wife than I am. Sad, but true. I ventured shakily from my bed Saturday morning at 11am, dreading to find the house and children in shambles.
I was wrong. The floors were sparkling clean, the kitchen counter completely cleared off and dishes done. Leftovers from the spaghetti dinner he’d made were neatly wrapped up in the fridge and fresh coffee was brewing.
This wasn’t some early Saturday morning trick. I had noticed the house being generally cleaner all week. Not only that, Eric took the girls to sports practices, made sure they were showered and dressed in decent clothes, had them clean their room, and set a timer on his phone to remind me when to take my antibiotics.
All this while working full time all week. Did I mention he also finished tiling our front bathroom? None of this stopped him from bringing me dinner in bed and going out to buy me ice cream when I said it sounded good. I know, now I’m just bragging.
So, Saturday, after looking around the house I barely recognized, I said, “You’re a better housekeeper than me.”
“Yes I am.” Eric smiled. “But you’re a better mommy and school teacher.” Well, crap. I almost wished he would have been the tiniest bit smug, so I could be annoyed.
It reminded me of the Andy Griffith episode where Aunt Bea leaves and Andy gets a neighbor to clean the house, and then has to mess it up again because Aunt Bea feels she’s not needed. Well, what did I want? To find the house in chaos with dirty kids running amok? Of course not. Would I have felt better if this was the case? Uh…kind of.
This isn’t the first time Eric has annoyed me with his efficiency. One time, when Soleil was about eight months old, I went on an all day field trip with Coco and Eric took the day off to stay home with the baby. Ah, just wait…I thought, rubbing my hands together in an evil fashion, he’ll see how hard it is!
Yet, while I spent the day following a group of second graders through the zoo–trying to conceal body parts that sprung a leak at every baby’s cry–Eric painted our hallway with a cheerful Soleil strapped on his back.
What a pain! Now I can hear hordes of women crying, well I wish my husband would help out like that! But do you really? Take my word for it, it’s a sad thing to wake up and realize your hubby is a better wife than you are!
But, yes, I admit. He’s pretty dang cool.
[A note: I asked Eric’s permission before sharing this. He thinks it’s hilarious.]