of not-so-great days and the man who rubs my feet anyway

I must admit that if I ever sort out all my days in order from wonderfulness to horribleness, yesterday won’t be high on the list. It won’t even be in the middle. It will be somewhere near the bottom, although not quite the foundation of the stack (I’m saving that for the day my mom left and every day in which I’ve been in a car accident and a few other days). Suffice it to say, it was not a glorious day by any stretch of the imagination. In fact, it wouldn’t take much of a stretch to consider it horrendous.
Everything came to a head at some point during the preparation of dinner, when the fact that I hadn’t the apartment clean, my husband was hungry, and I was in pain because I had just sliced off a chunk of my thumb all came to a head.
I started crying. Sniffling, snuffling, and soon it turned into full blown sobs.
“What’s the matter?”
“I’m a failure as a wife. I only have a couple of responsibilities, and I can’t even get those done correctly. The house is a mess, and dinner’s not done.”
That’s when his face got serious. He cupped my face in his hands, looked at me, and spoke in that tone I’ve only heard a few times.
“Don’t talk like that. That’s how your mom was, and you can’t give in to that. You’re not a failure. I love you, you’ve been having a rough week.”
And then he held me until I stopped crying.

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~ by wildeyedwonder on December 9, 2005.

One Response to “of not-so-great days and the man who rubs my feet anyway”

  1. I think you make a wonderful wife, not that I would know certain parts of that wonderfulness personally… But you DO make that most fabulous cheesecake known to man, you DO know how to put your own needs aside to help others, and you DO have a wonderful man that totally worships you.
    Besides all that, let me know if there’s anything I can do to help you out! (I can’t begin to thank you for your willingness to lend a hand & help out wherever you could
    — no matter how unpleasant the task seemed.)

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