Getting the kids up for church this morning has been... interesting. I have been met with squeals of protest, complaints of not feeling well (coming after bouncing off the walls, not too convincing!) and very vocal protests. Even Hubby has been dragging his feet. He has been awake for almost 4 hours, but did not start getting ready until 15 minutes before we have to leave. I somehow think we will either be late, or not make it this morning. Oh well, if we don't make it I will make today chore day from hell for the kids, and give Hubby a Honey-do list.
I love my Hunkka-hunkka Hubby so much, but sometimes definitely get a chuckle when he helps out around the house. Mind you, I'm NOT complaining, just chuckling. Yesterday Hubby let me sleep in. While I was sleeping, the dear heart helped me by running about 4 loads of laundry. I was so pleased to see that I did not have to run those loads. Of course, I have to fold them all so I can find my kitchen table again, but I don't have to wash them! Now, there is a history as to why this causes me to chuckle.
In 1993 we were living in Japan. I was in the Air Force and Hubby flipped back and forth between going to school and working on the base over there. Never both at the same time, as we wanted to be able to see each other! During the month of March in 1993, I was sent to Korea to play war games. I was there for about 30 days, during which I discovered I was preggers with #3 when I went to be seen for "the flu".
I came home after being gone for a month. While I was gone, Hubby had either kept the house clean, or frantically cleaned it to an immaculate state before I arrived home. With one exception. It took me folding clothes for 2 and a half days before I found my kitchen table and chairs. He had cleaned all the laundry as needed, but just piled it on the table because he hated folding clothes. When clean clothes were needed for he and/or the boys, a quick digging on the laundry mountain rendered clean, but slightly wrinkled clothes. There was not a single piece of clothing left in any of his or the kids drawers or closets. When I saw the clean house surrounding the mountain of laundry, I laughed almost uncontrollably for close to 30 minutes.
Of course, I was not laughing the time the kids threw out all the clean clothes from the window into the mud shortly after that. Or when they coated the laundry and entire upstairs with the entire contents of a (brand new, not yet opened by me) 72 ounce container of baby powder, but those are stories for another day.