I’m not saying it was the perfect night, but it WAS the perfect night.
I walked into my house after spending 3 hours in deep conversation with a friend whose company soothes my soul. We had just spent the evening laughing, commiserating and solving the worlds problems while ingesting mass quantities of Mexican food.
I always feel uplifted and ready to take on the world after my dinners with Meesh, which is a blessing, because as any woman knows, walking back into your home after an evening out, typically leaves you greeted with a clear view of the path the tornado took through your home. It’s not that our partners aren’t taking care of the house, the dog, the kids as well as we do, it’s just not how we would do. Maybe the toys have returned to a new resting spot, or the blankets didn’t get folded, or the sink is still full of dishes. It’s not wrong, just different.
But last night, as I rolled my minivan into the garage and opened my back door, I was rendered speechless. There he was, in all his glory, rag in one hand, pledge in the other, working that entertainment center over like a man possessed. The comforting aroma of Lysol and Citrus Cinnamon candle wafting through the air. I could see the vacuum tracks in the carpet and the sink was completely empty. The unfamiliar sound of silence rang loudly in my ears as I observed this scene. I reached for the monitor expecting to see my toddlers jumping around, as per their usual routine, and instead was met with the sight of closed eyes and still bodies.
My husband shuffled his Croc adorned feet my way and planted a kiss on me in route to the laundry room where I watched, slack-jawed, as he pulled the clothes from the dryer, carried the basket into the living room and began folding like some mythical creature descended from the heavens. I have never in my life been more attracted to a man wearing plastic shoes.
He stood before me assembling a perfectly folded pile of clothing and with genuine interest, he inquired about my day and listened intently as I rambled on about work and dinner. As we spoke, I took notice of a soldier movie queued up on the TV screen. “I figured you wouldn’t be interested, so I am gonna watch it without you, if you don’t mind”. My mind stilled, was he giving me a free pass to avoid this movie and head upstairs? As if he could hear my thoughts, a knowing smirk spread across his face, “I’ll be up in a bit”. I climbed my stairs in a bliss filled stupor prepared to end this perfect evening with the most recent episode of ‘Odd Mom Out’ and then read myself into a calm slumber.
The 5:30 am alarm buzzing jolted me awake. Tucked in behind me was the most handsome version of Mr. Clean my eyes have ever seen. My head flooded with the memory of him folding and dusting. It may not be everyone’s brand of kink, but these images will keep me going for quite some time.