1. He makes great food. Right now it's sourdough bread. I have to take a tiny bit of credit--I got him the sourdough cooking class that gave him a starter and some recipes to start with. But he actually does it. He makes the bread, the orange cinnamon rolls, the pancakes, the popovers. And I eat.
2. He has a great beard. Not everyone can grow a nice full beard. Not everyone looks good in a beard. Not everyone has the patience to keep a beard neatly trimmed. My husband can and does. I like it. You know it looks good when other women at church tell you your husband's beard looks good. Yes, that's right--other women. At church. Saying he looks good.
3. He never says unkind or critical things to me. And I really mean never. Of course, nobody's perfect at this sort of thing. He's not perfect either. But you tend to remember the unkind things people say to you, especially when the person saying it is important to you. And I don't remember anything. I really don't. He seems to know, either from experience or by intuition, that I can't handle that stuff. I need to be safe with him. And I am. I feel accepted by him. I wish I would accept myself a little more the way he accepts me.
4. He shares all the work with me. With the obvious exception of breastfeeding, no job in our household is mine alone. He doesn't expect me to always do all the laundry. He cooks dinner at least half the time. He will do dishes and sweep and scrub the bathroom. He helps with everything. I'm the one who FEELS like I should always be on top of that stuff, but to him, it's our household, our family, our responsibility. Now there are things that I do most of, most of the time, but nothing that he never helps with. He goes to work and then he comes home and works with me.
That's a good list for today. Tonight, when I was sure he'd be pulling in the driveway soon, I sat on the couch that's below our front window and put Johnny on my lap to look out the window. Charlie climbed up next to us to look for Daddy, too. Just then, I saw a red civic coming up the street and Charlie said, "Is that Daddy?" It was. My husband jumped out of the car and came to the window, smiling a huge smile and mouthing "Hi!" at Johnny. Charlie was calling out "Daddy Daddy!" as Jeremy came in the front door. He picked up his little boy and gave him a hug, then came over with kisses for me and for Johnny. It's the kind of homecoming I hope my boys have lots of memories of, forever.
Here he is, reading to John at the library where he works. Nice beard, huh?
1 comment:
That is so lovely Ann. I'm all teary!
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