Guess what, no really, fucking guess what! I believe that my husband was abducted by aliens with a sense of humor while on his LA trip. They returned him to me seemingly the same, but tonight, he cleaned the kitchen and took out the trash when I got home from work and went in to do the dishes. I know, you're saying big deal, my husband does dishes, but mine does NOT. He also has an interview tomorrow morning. For a job. Yes, a mother fucking J.O.B! This is what leads me to the conclusion that there is some body snatching-mind controlling-reeces eating-new type of entity inhabiting his silly ass.
Now please don't think that I am some fantabulous housekeeping super bitch either, cuz I'm not. I hate dishes so much I could make you a list of how bad, but that's another time. I have no clue what had me up in the kitchen that late either trying to straighten up before I go to bed. Maybe something happened to me while he was gone...hmm that's another theory to pursue yet another time. Anyways, I did go clean up and then he did too. And that's big. Last week while he was gone I kept up on everything, even dishes. I cleaned as I went along. I folded and put away laundry as it came out of the dryer! I did all that shit and more, it's not like I had anyone to keep me company or anything good on TV to watch. I missed him so I kept busy. I think that the keeping up on the mountain of laundry and dishes and toys and shoes thing all came about this time while he was gone because he was gone.
When I am in single mom mode I kick ass. I think he made me lazy by simply being here. I automatically expect him to help. He does of course, but when he helps me and picks up slack I take it for granted and don't do yardwork or don't wash a bit of laundry for like, ever. I also don't do bathrooms or any wood or clean up dog shit. He does all of that. Any time any outside work comes up, I run inside and try to find a fucking meal to cook. I HATE yard work and will always claim the inside of the house is my domain and that all the outside is for him to deal with. I say, I cook I clean and I give boss head. I aint going outside to do dirty work too, cuz then I'm fuckin for free. I fold ALL clean laundry though, and anyone who has kids knows how much laundry a family can have. And I always wait until the pile of clean clothes is so big I cant see the top of the dresser that its in front of and then I have a giant 2 to 3 hour laundry party and get it all put away. I even match the god damned socks. And I wear a fucking uniform most of my life so all the other shit I'm usually folding isn't none of mine! I'd say that I have approximately 19% of the clothing in this house and anyone who DARE say I'm lying better whisper it. But I do everything to it but wash it.
He has an interview. Big shit for me. He's been a house husband taking care of the kids while I work. I am so fucking happy I can't see straight. I don't even mind if he doesn't get the position. I'm still tickled he applied. It means to me that he knows and sees how hard I am really working and the toll its taking on me. He has recovered from his major knee surgery and is back to thinking like I do, that this can't be all there is for us. Tonight, I'm going to bed with hope. Not just for his job. But hope for us.
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