Man at Home

So, as always, I have permission to write about this. I wake up this very fine morning stiff  and sore from sitting in a uncomfortable chair all day and dialing numbers for a temp job and come down to Steve efficiently and with vigor cleaning the kitchen. The hustle and bustle of 4 children with different school schedules running here and there for make-up, uniforms, arguing over bananas, socks, gathering items for lunches has crescendo to full force! As Steve is putting away left out items with inhumane speed, he happens upon the pantry where some poor fool left two bags of bread open! "Who did this?" the tirade (not really a tirade but for dramatic purposes tirade fits) begins. He could only guess what little person did this and the guessing came with a few accusations. We all stand still and stare at him with grins on our faces. "Dear," I say "you need a job!" He stops in mid-wipe of the counters, rolls his eyes, and then begins taking breakfast orders. The poor man is a hard worker and is willing to work anywhere doing anything. But being home is a cursed blessing for him. Yes, we do get real breakfasts in the morning as opposed to my three choices that I offer. (toast, oatmeal, or cereal.) He does drive our three carpools in the a.m. most of the time. The garage has never looked better. My sore muscles are tended too and my every whim can potentially be taken care of at any time. But the poor man needs a job! It is the way right now, I know. There are several of us in the same boat, whether our prince has a college degree or not, some of us can relate to the blessed curse or the  cursed blessing of having your man home! Ah, my omelet with 4 different kinds of vegetable is ready. Maybe for just this minute it is purely a blessing...............go and do.