living like a complete pig
I am generally the more domestic one in my partnered relationship. My wife does well and is more than willing to participated, but I tend to actually enjoy cooking, cleaning, laundry, grocery shopping, small (very small) household repairs, sewing if necessary. But when my wife goes out of town (she is at school in St. Paul for a week), I turn into a pig. My daughter and I had a supper that consisted of tuna fish and ak-mak crackers. We danced to Veggie Tales and Great Big Sea, left crayons all over the floor, dirty dishes in funny places--and then I stay up way too late for my own good. I think my wife saved my life. I am perfectly capable of a respectable existence, but I think I might tire of it after awhile. It has been a breath of fresh air to my daughter and I to not have to worry if we are distracting Mommy from her work. We miss her, but the change of pace is good.
I was doing something downstairs when kks woke up this morning--I came upstairs to find that she was calling out "Mommy" in our bedroom. She was mystified--but not yet scared. She then saw me and sprinted my way, just like she used to when I pick her up from child care.
My wife and I debated whether to post this, but while I was on the phone the other day, kks decided to share. A strange kind of sharing, she said "here." I held out my hand and she said, "See? Poopie." Guess what she placed in my hand?
My life is ruled by poop. Jesus said the Kingdom of God is near. I sure see a lot of poop near me.