Matt is a strange fellow. He does things that are totally foreign to me. He keeps baked goods (i.e. cookies, bread, etc.) in the microwave to keep them fresh. He cleans dishes with the hand soap we have beside the sink instead of the dish soap that is under it. He is a pack-rat. He doesn't mind clutter. He thinks that old Cool Whip containers should be kept as bowls. He likes to watch South Park. I hate South Park. He always leaves those little dry-cleaning tags on the dresser instead of throwing them away. He thinks the garage is for storage and not for my car.
He drives me crazy. Everyday I think I'm about to cross over into certifiable crazy territory as I pick up those dry-cleaning tags. Yesterday when I watched him wash something with hand soap I think my eyes got stuck in the back of my head they rolled so far back.
But he is the most amazing father. He takes Helen fishing in the lakes around our house. He changes Patrick's diapers. Everyday when Helen gets home, he takes her outside to look for planes. He hung a bird feeder outside on our patio so we can all watch the birds. He takes everyone on walks on the weekends so I can read my book or catch up around the house without interruption. He makes dinner on occasion and doesn't mind eating cereal when the day has been to hectic to actually cook. He doesn't mind that I am crazy picky about keeping the house neat and how we raise our kids. He doesn't mind that I'd rather stay home on the weekends with the family than go out. In fact, he likes to stay in as much as I do. He'll stop at the grocery store when all I need is milk because he knows that its not worth it to take two little ones to the store just for one thing. He works a million hours a week and travels all the time so I don't have to.
So tomorrow morning when I throw away his dry-cleaning tags, wash all the water spots off the mirror, and hang up his wet towel, I'm going to try to remember that sometimes its hard for him to do it all. And I'd much rather him be out looking for planes than picking up those tags. But if he could do both, that would be great too.
He drives me crazy. Everyday I think I'm about to cross over into certifiable crazy territory as I pick up those dry-cleaning tags. Yesterday when I watched him wash something with hand soap I think my eyes got stuck in the back of my head they rolled so far back.
But he is the most amazing father. He takes Helen fishing in the lakes around our house. He changes Patrick's diapers. Everyday when Helen gets home, he takes her outside to look for planes. He hung a bird feeder outside on our patio so we can all watch the birds. He takes everyone on walks on the weekends so I can read my book or catch up around the house without interruption. He makes dinner on occasion and doesn't mind eating cereal when the day has been to hectic to actually cook. He doesn't mind that I am crazy picky about keeping the house neat and how we raise our kids. He doesn't mind that I'd rather stay home on the weekends with the family than go out. In fact, he likes to stay in as much as I do. He'll stop at the grocery store when all I need is milk because he knows that its not worth it to take two little ones to the store just for one thing. He works a million hours a week and travels all the time so I don't have to.
So tomorrow morning when I throw away his dry-cleaning tags, wash all the water spots off the mirror, and hang up his wet towel, I'm going to try to remember that sometimes its hard for him to do it all. And I'd much rather him be out looking for planes than picking up those tags. But if he could do both, that would be great too.
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1 comment:
This is SO funny, Kate! For a minute there I thought that you were talking about my husband. Mine is a lot like this, too. But like you, at the end of the day, I feel so lucky to have him. Messy and all!
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