Marge, look at me! We’ve been separated for a day, and I’m as dirty as a Frenchman. In another few hours, I’ll be dead!
– Homer Simpson
We were in England for Christmas, which was wonderful. Then I came home on New Year’s Day (not so wonderful). The Kev, however, stayed through for a family event, so he’s only been home a few days now. For the month of January, I was…
I wasn’t making that face in anticipation of being left to my own devices, though. A friend asked me what I was going to do with my time. “Wallow in my own filth!” I cheerily responded. (The Kev is neater than I am.) I knew I would miss him, but we have long-distance relationship experience, and I thought it would be nice to have a little time to myself.
But…when it came right down to it, I ended up working long hours, it was cold and dark outside, and the wallowing was not all that great!
I kept things ticking over Chez D’oh — I managed the snow, for instance, but I didn’t dig out more than I had to. The path to the compost bin was not a high priority.
When Kevin returned, he took care of the things I skipped. This took the household from a “just getting by” attitude back up to “lovely homey home” status.
I didn’t realize quite how much we divide and conquer around the house. I also didn’t fully appreciate how much more fun even mundane DIY tasks are when we do them together. I still managed to repair the sofa and take care of a few other tasks while Kevin was gone, but NO FUN WAS HAD (comparatively speaking).
My Valentine’s week recommendation to you, then, is this: send your spouse away for a month! If you find yourself wishing he were home helping you strip paint, you’ll know you’ve got a keeper.