I've pretty much depleted my song lyrics about confessions. I thought I was scraping the bottom of the barrel last week quoting Richard Marx but luckily I rose above all that with a great song from Evita. Maybe I'll make Monday "True Confession Monday" since I always seem to remember over the weekend what a blatant struggler I am. Without further ado, here is my true confession for today.
- You know how husbands are soooo silly? We love them dearly, but they do things that make us crazy: they leave their socks/dirty clothes/shoes everywhere, they never put the things they use away, they procrastinate the simplest tasks you give them, they seem to always be sleeping while we're folding laundry or cleaning up after the animals! They never call home when they're going to be late and they "forget" to tell us when they've planned something without talking to us first. And don't even think about talking to them if they're watching NASCAR or basketball! It's all pretty annoying, isn't it? This is my true confession: these are all things that I do! Me! The wife! Poor Scott. Yesterday I took a 4 hour after-church nap while he folded laundry (the laundry that, coincidentally, HE washed the day before). I woke up and made dinner then ran off to Young Women's for New Beginnings (yes, I know it's March--don't judge me!) where I ended up staying until after 10:00 because we had an impromptu presidency meeting afterwards except I didn't think to call home and tell him I'd be late until almost 10. Sometimes, if Jack comes into our room in the middle of the night, he trips on my clothes/shoes that I just didn't have the energy to put away before going to sleep. In short: I'm not a great wife. I'm an okay husband (without the paycheck) but I'm not a fantastic wife. Is that a problem?
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