But there's more. Today I come home from work, pull into the driveway, and step out of my vehicle. An herb garden with fresh mulch and bright yellow marigolds has been planted.
I walk inside.
The kitchen floor? It is clean.
The dishes? Done.
The groceries? Bought and put away.
The laundry? In the dryer with a mountain fresh freakin' fabric softener sheet.
The pork roast? In the oven.
The baby? Not only alive, but happier, and I think smarter, than when I left him this morning.
The husband? Acting like it ain't no thing.
All of this from a man who, one Christmas Eve day, was asked to clean the toilet, just clean the guest toilet with bleach before people arrive. A man who cleaned the toilet with bleach, but got distracted, went to change a CD, and never returned to wipe OFF the bleach, thus resulting in me bleaching a ring around my ass and screaming highly unchristian obscenities just as the first guests arrived on our front porch.
The summer? ... PLEASE don't let it end.