The Good Man...

I find myself struggling lately not to pick apart every little thing.

I found myself this morning without a bathroom because the husband had taken the door off the bathroom to paint it, and all the wood work/trim. A project I started mind you, and he is finishing, at 8 am on Sunday morning.

He is a good man... even if I don't get to take a shower.

I wandered downstairs to start some laundry only to find that there were several baskets all over the floor.  All clean, needing to be folded, and brought up to their respective homes.

*sigh*

He is a good man for doing all the laundry, even if he didn't finish the job.

He helped me re-size the bookshelf in the bedroom, even though he had no idea what I was doing, why I was doing it, and I told him every five seconds what he was doing wrong. He even cut the hole for the outlet, so we wouldn't lose it behind the new built in. And he is still a good man, even though I will wait for what seems like an eternity for him to clean up the mess that is front of the other bookshelf so I can finish the project.

He is a good man for cleaning garage, despite my complaining that he buried all of my tools behind the wood I needed the tools for.

He is a good man for thinking of me on a random Tuesday when he brought home roses.

He is a good man for worrying about my health, despite how annoying I find it.

He is a good man for not hesitating once when my dad asked for help at 8 am Father's day to demo his back deck... only to find out we were throwing him a surprise 50th birthday party breakfast. He is also a good man for not blowing the surprise when he sensed there was something going on.

For not complaining about the bacon I made for breakfast, my setting off the fire alarm, or commenting that it wasn't very tasty.

For trying to help with every hair brained project I have going in this teeny house, even though he hates when I start a new one.

For supervising the annual burning of the school work that Youngest loves to do, and insisting I sit down and put me feet up while he tended the fire.

For pretending to understand why I put so much of myself into making the Boy Scout Troop a quality program for Youngest and all of the other boys.

For pretending to understand what the hell I am talking about when I complain about work.

For being a dad to two more sons by choice, not obligation....

....He is a good man.