No, a rabid raccoon didn’t jump out from the side of the road and land, limbs sprawled, on my windshield.
And, NO, I wasn’t drunk! (Sheesh!) I was coming home from work for crying out loud! I was only buzzed.
No, I was half-listening to a local drive-time talk show when I distinctly heard a woman say, “There is nothing sexier than a man pushing a vacuum.”
What the—?! Hello! How many times have I been saying this? How long have I been trying to convince Husband that, while he may be able to rev up his sex drive no matter the day, time, or level of chaos around him, my sex drive is directly correlated to one thing and one thing only—tequila. No, just kidding. What I meant to say was—housework.
I know he has been thinking that I am completely nuts. Which I am. But not about this.
You see, now there is proof that women really do get turned on at the sight of their husband elbow-deep in the toilet bowl.
The woman on the radio was discussing an article from CNN that reports on this issue, citing experts who are confirming what I’ve been saying for 13 years: Lazy just ain’t sexy.
So I’m driving home listening to this, feeling so validated and yet strangely irritated at the same time. What would I come home to today? Husband has a few weeks off before the school year starts, so it’s Daddy Day Care for us. Would there be banana peels on the floor? Would the same laundry be sitting in the washer from two days before? Would the living room look like the Milton-Bradley factory had just exploded? Would Husband be perched in front of the computer?
I turned onto our street, taking some deep breaths and engaging in some positive self-talk. Patience, Paula, patience. No matter what, do NOT jump down anyone’s throat. Play it cool…
And then—Be still my heart.
Who’s house is this? I thought as I nearly drove past our driveway. Not only was the grass freshly mowed AND the edges trimmed, but the garage had been cleaned as well! I believe we could’ve actually parked a vehicle in the two-car stall! (We didn’t, but we could’ve.)
When I entered the house, I heard the distinct sound of the dryer running. Could it mean that laundry was being done? Could it really be?
Is it hot in here, or is it just me?
Upon further investigation, I noticed that the kitchen counters were cleared, dishes were soaking in the sink, and the living room had been picked up.
Gentlemen, start your engines!
And what about upstairs? Yeah, our bed was made and clean clothes were neatly folded on the bed, ready to be put away. The bathroom floor had been cleared of the mound of dirty laundry.
If it weren’t for the kids being home, Husband would’ve been sure to get a little appetizer before supper…
(I apologize for grossing you out, but the truth must be told.)
Did I mention that Husband did all this without me nagging, asking politely, or even hinting that these things needed to be done? He did it all on his own. And he hadn’t even listened to the radio program or read the article on CNN!
At the risk of sounding like Alanis Morissette, Isn’t it ironic?
Sadly, Husband did not receive the thanks he so deserved, mainly due to the fact that we shared our bed last night with a soon-to-be 4-year-old boy and a soon-to-be 1-year-old dog.
But if I walk in the front door tonight and find him wearing an apron and rubber gloves and scrubbing the kitchen floor, I may not be able to contain myself.
“Kids? Why don’t you go outside and play…”