Love... True Love

As I have said before and will continue saying, the title of this blog is a misnomer in my eyes. There are a couple domestic bones in me, but if you offered me a live-in maid and cook, no strings attached, done. Okay, so I make my own cleaners. And I love to bake for my family and friends. But really, I am no domestic goddess, despite what some of my friends might say after biting into a deliciously scrumptious chocolate croissant.

For example, my husband and I decided to divide the "big" chores early in our marriage. This managed to save our sanity... mine because, like I said, I don't love chores and domestic-ing... his because he gets a little more than a little nuts when things aren't clean. So, because I'm partially OCD about laundry, that became my job and he drew dishes. In most ways, this arrangement works out flawlessly. If laundry falls behind, he'll gently remind me that I either have a long lecture with the Laundry Girl or fire her outright. If the dirty dishes start stacking up, the Dish Boy is playfully shamed by coming home to a load of clean dishes. Blame the Laundry Girl. This arrangement has worked for about ten years, so who am I to change it? (Note: both the Laundry Girl and Dish Boy have a serious problem putting away their creative medium. So it's very possible we will be hiring an organization guru just so we don't have to put things away. :) )

Sometimes the arrangement hits a snag. Like the last three days when I've been living like a single parent (sidenote: To all the single parents who read this blog, I applaud you. I could not walk in your shoes for any more than a few days at a time.) because dear hubby left town for a conference. WHO WILL DO THE DISHES??? But before he left, he did dishes so they wouldn't be too much of a burden for me. And when I tempted myself to put that load away, I knew how much my dear one loved me.

Love, for me, is in the little things. Sure, grand gestures don't go unnoticed, but the little things are some of the most intimate ways couples share their feelings. This is mainly because the little things mean nearly nothing to outsiders.

When I put away dishes, this was the setting. The dishwasher was half-full and not yet ready to run. There was a towel full of hand washed stuff that needed to be cleared away before washing the next load. In the middle of that towel was sitting a lonely green coffee cup... my favorite. I don't know why I like it so much. Fits my hand? Holds drinks hot? It doesn't matter. This mug that could have easily been put in the dishwasher (and usually is) was handwashed by my so perfect husband before he left for a few days because he knows it's my favorite.

That's true love. And that's how I know we will be together for a long, long time.