Or, it’s reminding me what I’m supposed to be doing. Or something.
When I woke up this morning, there was a fresh pot of coffee brewing and Dan was washing Joshua’s sippy cups from yesterday. He’d also started the dishwasher. Did you catch the part where I said “when I woke up”?
Joshua decided to wake up at 5:00 this morning and since I’d been laying there, awake, after dreaming that I was starring in a episode of Burn Notice (which I did NOT watch before bed, but which still gave me action-packed, guns-a-blazin’ dreams) I got up and gave him some milk and put him back in his crib. And I think he maybe dozed for about 45 minutes or so. I never heard him wake up, but when I woke up, Dan wasn’t in the bed and I could hear Joshua in the living room.
I got to sleep in. Until 7:15. And then there was COFFEE waiting.
Because he is awesome, Dan let me sleep in yesterday, too.
He also let me take a nap. And he made a grocery list while I napped.
He also mowed the grass yesterday. And prepared dinner.
Is anyone sensing a trend here?
That I am a lazy good for nothing husband who sits on his tail all day while his wife does all the work?
Okay, okay, so I DID sweep the living room yesterday and wash A load of laundry. “A,” as in singular. As in one. (There are many, many more loads of laundry where that came from. Sheets that need to be washed. A comforter that needs to go to the laundromat. A few straggling towels that didn’t fit in the last load. Etc.)
But y’all, his productivity level is leaps and bounds above mine. I’m blaming the hot, hot, unseasonably hot heat we’ve had here (and really, I don’t remember it being this hot this early in the summer before, and I’ve lived here most of my life) as the reason why I don’t want to move. Because I really don’t want to move.
And I’m lazy.