I married a man who cleans the kitchen and that has made all the difference. I’ll explain.
The other night I headed out to a little get-together quickly after dinner, leaving behind a table and sink full of dirty dishes. I hate leaving a dirty kitchen but of course, we were running behind in a major way, as in I was putting on my mascara with one hand while attempting to get Annie in her pumpkin romper with the other. On the drive home I decided I would tidy up before washing my face and hopping in bed, so imagine the major smile that washed over my face when I walked in to a sparkling clean kitchen.
You see, my marriage isn’t perfect. I’ve let him down more times than I care to admit and he’s said the wrong thing at the wrong time once or twice. We’ve fallen into the bad habit of keeping a running list of “who did what” and “who forgot to do that thing again.” We’ve compared and contrasted time and effort and how good the job was done. I’ve been annoyed that he slept in that one day when I woke up at 5 a.m. with a bright-eyed baby girl and demanded he take out the trash because “ew, don’t you smell that?”
We don’t always get it right.
But, a lot of days, we do.
We tackle life as a team because that’s what being married is all about: stepping up when your partner really needs you; being the one who your person can count on; offering support, reassurance, and validation when life gets busy and you need to be reminded what a blessing marriage really is.
