This year, Columbus Day was extra cold, dreary, and uninviting. The last thing I wanted to do was leave my warm bed and head to the office. My fiancé wasn't any help either since he got to wear full sweats all day and watch his precious "Top Gear" show on TV. Roger yawned for the tenth time since waking up, and I made my best attempt to look nice and slap on happy face. When it was time for me to leave, he bid me a sleepy farewell and I muttered a half-annoyed "See ya later."r
But Monday got a whole lot better when I discovered that there was a silver lining to me having to work and my significant other not having to leave the apartment at all. You'd think it was the promise of seeing my fiancé for lunch in a few hours or the fact that he agreed to stay in Annapolis an extra day instead of departing to his home in Arlington. Around 1:00 in the afternoon, my stomach growled loudly. I jumped in my car and headed the short distance to my place. Immediately, I was welcomed by delicious smells and upbeat music playing on Roger's iPhone. Almost every light was on in my house and at first, I thought, "Geez, Rog, are you afraid of the dark? Get over it, Sweetie. Electricity is costly around these parts."
r
That thought quickly left my mind when I realized my whole place was vacuumed. I have a roommate and she has a one-year-old Puggle who, despite SPCA having promised that his eed doesn't shed, litters our floor with his little golden hairs everywhere. But wait, it gets better. I turn the corner to see my Mr. Man making me lunch - the best kind of lunch, the one that rainy days call for - grilled cheese and tomato soup. YUMMY! That meal is undoubtedly my greatest weakness. Put me in front of cheese, ead, and warm soup and I'll gobble it up, then ask for seconds, and when I'm really hungry... for thirds.
r
But after my two lovely surprises of no more dog hair and a homemade meal, I was dreaming up all sorts of ways to repay my lovely husband-to-be. As we chatted over our cheese-oozing sandwiches, Roger admitted to being bored after I left that morning. His solution was to do all the laundry, clean the bathroom, and Windex the porch doors. By this point, I was smiling ear to ear. I landed a big kiss on Roger's cheek and joked that I would keep him around for awhile. That night, I called my parents to ag about my doting and incredibly responsible fiancé. My dad complimented my choice in men to which I exclaimed, "So this is what it's like to be married?! I could get used to this."
But Roger playfully warned me not to always expect the silver platter treatment. He wanted me to know that we're a team and we are supposed share responsibilities. Rightfully so, it's my turn to housekeep next but if I ever splurge on the Dyson Ball Vacuum, rest assured, I'll never hand over the chore again. Have any of you ever watched the Dyson commercials? Those machines are fabulous!
