I laid out the law. I told my wife that if she loved me, she would watch the Battlestar Galactica mini-series. (Would you believe that “Battlestar Galactica” was not in the Microsoft Word spell-check dictionary?) It took me two weeks of relentless pressure, followed by my aforementioned last ditch ultimatum before Cheryl relented. I told her that if she would just watch the mini-series…
What do pre-mixed tile grout, Windex, Lysol cleaning wipes, dryer sheets, and unleaded gasoline have in common? Nothing really. Unless that is, you consider what I did today. It was a day that will live in the annals of (Kauffman) history forever. It was a day when John tackled an outside chore and an inside chore in a single day. And, if that were not enough – he did more than one inside…
Cheryl, John, John, Cheryl.
If not for the fact that chance meetings between strangers rarely occur in your master bathroom, you’d wonder if the two people in this story knew each other. On the eve of prime time, this fine March evening, Cheryl was slaving away in the bathroom. She left the bathroom running at full impulse power, carrying an armful of cleaning supplies. Upon her departure…
“Cheryl, why don’t you take the knobs off before you paint the doors?”
“If you want to paint, then take the knobs off.”
Touche!
Three hours later,
I find myself finishing up the inside of our pantry door. I’m putting the finishing touches on my masterpiece, a flawless paint job around a doorknob – still installed. It must have taken me fifteen minutes…
Having lived in a housework deficit for three, germ infested, weeks; Cheryl was as eager as an alcoholic in a liquor store. (I am convinced her need for clean is a symptom of an addictive personality, but don’t tell her I said that.)
“John, would you like to do some mopping this morning?”
Good thing I wasn’t eating at the time, I might have needed medical attention.
Have you ever wanted to let out a cathartic scream, but didn’t? Futility over comes you instead, and you do nothing – hopelessly wallowing in the absurdity of the moment.
A phrase comes to mind, “if it’s not one thing it’s,”
One minute Cheryl is guilting me into riding my bike to work. She’s browbeating her parents into accepting my exercising needs. The…
My daughter is in second grade, and she has spent more time on homework these last couple days than I spent my entire senior year of high school. Now before you say something snide about my senior year of high school, remember that I got into a decent college – even after my senior year. However, I will admit I was something less than your model high school student (unless your model was…
There are few things that warm my heart with contentment more than watching one of my kids sleeping. Lest your cynicism take hold; no, it’s not because they’re simply not awake. It’s all those things you hear other people say but don’t really appreciate until it’s you. It’s the innocence, the peacefulness, the adorableness, the loveliness.
You know what? I can…
I have added my wife as an authorized author for this site. So, if you see an entry posted by “Herself” and you suspect I didn’t post it, I probably didn’t. Why on Earth would I do such a thing? Heck if I know. She hasn’t asked and I haven’t asked her; it was a spur of the moment thing.
**Contrived linguistic bonus: “Spur” might just be an apt…
There are certain things where you should be able to count on spouse. For example, when you are asking your wife if there’s anything she needs done, and you are clearly just asking to be polite (having no real desire, intention, or energy for chores), shouldn’t a caring and thoughtful wife immediately sense this and act accordingly?
Love isn’t honeymoons, Valentines Day cards, or…