The time had come and deep down I knew it.
No point in putting it off any longer. My little laundry room was so messy and cluttered I could hardly get in and out of there anymore. A bit disturbing and slightly depressing. And certainly not the way I wanted to live.
Besides, it was April and the season for spring cleaning and fresh starts. The time for new growth and bright beginnings, right?
So I rolled up my sleeves, slipped on my yellow rubber gloves, and went to work. Sorted, trashed, and scrubbed until you could see shiny counters and a spotless floor. Clean and clear at last.
Not sure if this tells you too much about me, but looking out at that sparkling room I felt a strange kind of exhilaration. A sense of triumph. Like I'd really done something.
It was while gazing out at this great achievement that I heard someone sneak up behind me. And shut the door. Well, you remember how I described my "little" laundry room? Tiny might be more accurate. Let's put it this way ... two people and a closed door make for a rather close encounter.
I briefly hesitated, but then turned to face the intruder.
And there he was. That man I married. Suspiciously pulling something out from behind his back. Actually, two somethings. Two chocolate-dipped Häagen-Dazs ice cream bars to be exact.
I think I squealed.
Quickly followed by a sacred hush as we didn't dare make another sound in case one of the kids overheard. So without a word we munched on our frozen bars in the newly shined laundry room.
Quietly celebrating. Everything.
Not just the squeaky-clean room we were standing in. Not only the job done, or the goal completed. But him and me. And all that had been messed up, cleaned up and made beautiful over the years. Celebrating in front of the Whirlpool washing machine.
[Read the rest of the article at The Time-Warp Wife.]