By Staff
Leada Gore, Editor
I'd like to think there are two kinds of husbands in this world. There are those sensitive souls who go to the grocery store and handle some of the family duties or at least listen to the latest lament on the increased cost of chicken.
Then there are those who believe magic fairies operate within their home, handling every task from finding socks to locating the baking soda amidst a messy spice drawer.
I won't go into which type of husband I have, though I will say it's always good to clarify with your spouse that he does indeed want baking soda and not baking powder when he happens to wander into the kitchen.
The magic fairy issue came up this weekend in a simple exchange about milk.
"We're out of chocolate milk," Derek, Greg's 15-year-old said.
"No, we're not," I replied. "It's in the refrigerator in the garage. I would never let you run out of chocolate milk. This is just one of the many things I handle around here that no one even knows about."
I said this in a voice loud enough so Greg could hear it in the living room. He didn't respond, but did mumble something about that I don't think would have been printable even if I had heard it clearly.
Not wanting to let my griping moment pass, I followed Greg and proceeded to inform him of the many tasks I had to handle that day.
"There's laundry and the dog is dirty and the workmen who were here left dust on the floor and I still have to go to the grocery store," I said in a rush. "Can you at least put up your dirty clothes?"
He nodded, or at least I think that's what that motion meant.
I left to go to the grocery store, filling up my buggy with all sorts of things we needed, including the fifth gallon of chocolate milk we'd gone through that week.
I grumbled to myself the entire time.
"Ridiculous…probably sitting around watching a movie…the dog is probably in the back yard rolling in mud…do people think that laundry washes itself…and grocery shopping takes a lot of time and don't even get me started on how long it takes to cook…"
I finished my shopping and headed back home. I stomped in the house and went off to take care of the dog before I went back out for the groceries.
When I came back into the kitchen, all the groceries had been brought in the house and Greg was in the process of putting most of them away.
I stared in disbelief.
"Thank you," I spit out. "What a nice surprise."
"No problem," he said. "It's just one of the many things I handle around here that no one even knows about."
I guess he was listening after all.