Monday, March 1, 2010
It's been a strange existence around our house since Daddio has been laid off.
Sundays are especially hard.
I know it's not right, but I am getting an odd little kick out of hearing him say things to the kids, things like "if you'd pick your damn clothes up off of the floor and get them into the hamper (you know....that hamper right outside your bedroom door??) I would wash them for you, everyday, and I wouldn' t be looking at a full hamper every Sunday night, and I wouldn't be trippin over them when I have to go into your room to turn off the fan you left on".
"Fans use electricity, you know".
"And electricity costs money".
"And...your clothes thrown all over the floor, bunched up next to that running fan could cause a fire"
"I don't want any more plates of food brought into your bedroom".
"It's starting to smell like a Denny's in there".
"No wonder we don't have any glasses, they're all under your bed".
"I not surprised you're sick all the time. It can't be healthy breathing all those dirty uniform fumes".
We drive him nuts every weekend. Underfoot. Laying around. Messing up his clean house and his routine.
"I can't wait for Monday" he now says.
I love those times when Daddio seems to "get me".
He now totally understands why I used to get absolutely giddy every Sunday night.