We were getting ready to leave the house. After strapping Audrey in her carseat, I came back inside, to let Mr W know everyone was outside waiting...and had my hands on my shirt, fully intending to flash him some serious skin, because I'm a good wife that way...
I didn't even get a chance to get all the way in the door when he looks up at me and says, "It smells like a** in here. Didn't you notice it when you came in?" My hands came off my shirt as I made a mental note to find my nun's habit. "I love you, too, honey, and I'm a little insulted." "Why?" "Why? Why don't you just say, hey, when did you clean last," I giggled, "because it smells like it's been a while." "That's not what I meant," he says, before going on to say, "I mean, we do have four kids running around. When is the last time they took a bath?"
Now am I not only not flashing him, I thought, but he's not going to be seeing flesh for quite some time.
"Dude, so not only am I lax in housekeeping, but now my kids are smelly, too? I can assure you that Audrey and Ryan have had baths, very recently, although I can't speak for the big kids..." "See? It's gotta be them.." "You're not helping." I look around, and yeah, the place does need a pick-me-up, and resist the urge to go fetch him the broom and mop and tell him what he can do with it. "Okay, okay, we'll hose down the big kids later; but neither of us will have time to do anything around the house until Monday." "Fine."
Well, here it is, Monday. And I just finished sweeping and mopping, one of my tasks for today.
I can type him messages when I page him, so a few minutes ago, I typed this message: "Just mopped. Now the house smells like 90% clean floor, 10% a**."
As I am considering reinstating my good wife policy when he comes in the door, I am anxiously waiting to hear his response.