Neat Little Domestic Life

While I was blogging last week about being a pile of teary and snotty human flesh after seeing Seven Pounds, Boyfriend volunteered to do the dishes for me. I thought it was a sweet gesture. He's done this before, when I've had a migraine- he made his own dinner and picked up the living room or bathroom for me. He knows that sometimes comforting words and hugs aren't going to make me feel better so he'll offer those first and then leave me alone to get over the migraine with sleep or to get over the sadness by spilling my guts to you guys on here.

After I was done writing I was going to go out and grab myself something to drink when Boyfriend yelled, "Don't come in the kitchen until I tell you to, it's a surprise!" And I said, "I'm coming in." And he said, "Don't or I'll kill you. I mean it, wait for the surprise!" So I did...I waited....and I waited...and I waited a bit more. Nearly two hours had passed since I had gone in to our bedroom to write. Finally, he called me out and our kitchen had been cleaned from top to bottom! All the dishes had been done and put away, the stove top had been cleaned, the counter tops wiped down, the recycling and trash taken out. It was as sparkling as a kitchen that is nearly 100 years old gets!

I gave him a big hug and thanked him and told him it looked great. Then I told him that "Our bathroom could also use some work" with a big, cheeky smile on my face.

I've got a good guy...