This sight is a miracle.
My sink is usually full of dishes.
Not like hmm, I could do these if I wanted to...
No its a full where you have to do them because you are hungry and there is no dishes left in your house in which to pour your cereal into.
Not even Tupperware is clean for my delicious milk and crunchy goodness to be eaten from.
Why?
Because the deep, blue sea stole my husband for a few days.
I don't always understand this other lover in my husband's life that consumes his time and energy.
I don't always understand why she must steal him away from me.
I don't ever know the purpose of him visiting her.
And I sometimes get a little sad.
Okay, you can tell he has been gone too long because my delusional brain is turning the ocean into a lover and a human being...
Which it is not but it feels like a second lover because it steals him away from me.
And if he was home he would be shaking his head and rolling his eyes at me and in his adorable, loving voice he would be saying I was ridiculous.
But the ocean takes him and leaves me with a sink full of dishes.
I literally hate dishes.
I would rather scrub your poop out of my toilet than do my dishes.
I hate them.
I hate the slimy food left over on them that I have to touch.
I hate that I have to scrub and scrub and scrub pans to get meals off of them.
I hate that I feel like I can never get them clean enough.
I hate that I usually have to wash my glasses twice because they are a weird shape that loves to not clean well.
And I really hate when I leave them long enough that they start smelling.
And that takes less than 30 minutes on this island.
I hate them.
But I can usually keep up with them when my husband is home because I get motivated to do them by needing a clean kitchen to cook in.
But when he isn't home, I don't cook either.
Cooking for one person is dumb. It is pointless. And you have SO much left over food that you have to eat...
And I don't like left overs.
Yet, I can't seem to figure out how to not cook for 6 people every time I make food.
Its a seriously problem.
But, the worst thing in the world is my husband coming home to see the house a mess and the sink full of dishes.
Mind you, he could care less because he is a dude that doesn't really understand why the bathroom needs to be cleaned every other week.
But I personally feel like a failure as a wife.
That is what I am, a housewife.
So dirty house = bad wife.
In my mind alone though.
No one else judges how good of a wife I am by how dirty my sink is.
Mostly because there is really no one here to see my sink...
And if they want to judge me they can leave.
But seriously, my worth as a wife does not come from an empty sink or a clean toilet.
I could never clean, or cook, or do laundry and I would still make my husband extremely happy.
Why?
Because those things don't matter to him.
What matters to him is the fact that I am still here when he comes home. That I didn't leave or cheat on him while he was gone. It matters to him that I am here with open arms and a big kiss (and lots of a little more...if you know what I mean ;) ). It matters most to him when I can make him laugh and smile...
My worth as his wife is simply that I am his wife and that I stay his wife.
That I love him despite this annoying body of water that steals him away from me.
That I stay by his side and support him no matter what.
And the sooner I understand that, the happier I will be and the more the dishes will probably get done.
Because I will do the dishes out of love not requirement on myself.
I still may hate doing them, but at least I will have some motivation!
Oh and here is a little profound thought that came to my mind the other day that I will probably write about at some point later on...
I was a queen yet never realized it until he loved me like one.
Signing off, Mrs. K!
No comments:
Post a Comment