November 4, 2007

Daddy is a Better Mommy

I need to be able to walk pronto. Let me tell you why.

Today, Mr. BBM got up and made breakfast. He made the girls pancakes and he made me eggs, toast and bacon. He also served orange juice and coffee. When he was done cooking and cleaning up the entire kitchen, he started cleaning. He cleaned five levels of this house. By cleaned I mean vacuumed, dusted, cleaned three bathrooms, and also got on his hands and knees and polished our wood floors.

When I say vacuumed, I mean that he even used the attachments and vacuumed behind the TV and other crazy nonsense places that no one besides my Mom thinks of vacuuming.

While he was doing that, laundry was started, clothes were folded and. . . get this. . . put away. When I do laundry, clothing will sometimes sit in piles until, well, there are no more piles because we’ve worn everything straight out of the piles, and it’s back in the laundry again. He also changed the sheets on two beds.

When he was done with that, he set the girls up with a Disney movie because they had been climbing on me and driving me nuts for the entire time he cleaned. Boo hoo for me right? I know, no sympathy expected. Understood.

Later, he sat down, watched some football and then declared that it was time to make dinner.

For many men (and I know this because in case you don’t know this. . . women talk), this would mean calling Pizza Hut or the local Chinese restaurant. If they are kitchen savvy, it might mean Kraft Mac-n-Cheese, or if they’re really feeling ambitious, frozen chicken nuggets.

He went down to the kitchen and I assumed he was making Chicken Divan. It’s easy to make, but it takes a while. I assumed wrong.

He wasn’t only making Chicken Divan; he was also made Shepard’s Pie. . . from scratch. . . which means he made mashed potatoes from scratch. When he told me and my jaw dropped to the floor, he said, "Well, I wanted to make sure we had food to eat this week." Yes, my bottom jaw is still hanging out on my very clean floors.

While he was doing all of this, I spent time reading books to the girls, reading a book to myself, coaching Big I on how to do back-bends, watching football and yelling the scores to Mr. BBM as he worked like Cinder-freaking-rella. . . all while I was hanging out on the sofa.

I told him he needs to knock it off, because he is seriously starting to make me look bad. My house hasn’t been this clean, this organized, and my family hasn’t been this well fed in like. . .well. . . forever.

I’m a bit worried he’s going to burn out, and then what am I going to do? Either that, or I’m going to have to come back from my injury and go get a full time job; because is it just me, or is he seriously contending for my job?