Rowan and I spent two lovely weeks visiting family back in North Dakota (doncha know), while Dr. B toiled away here, sneaking back for a quick 1-day visit. While I was gone, he kept me updated by phone with what was going on and lots of "how do you..." questions. Basically, he was bored and not eating very well, so he did projects around the house. "It's really a mess around here," he said one night, "I need to straighten up. I leave a lot of crap around when you're not here to pick up or yell at me and when I don't have to worry about Rowan." He promised to pick up and even vacuum for me before I got home, something I had wanted to do before we left but hadn't had the chance until she was asleep (and then didn't want to take a chance on waking her).
We arrived late, collapsing on the sofa (Rowan in the crib) and ignored the house the next day while we celebrated Father's Day. Then Monday came, and I began the big clean-up. I cleaned both bathrooms, mopped the floors (twice, because they were really bad--it had been a while), cleaned the kitchen and started the laundry. I vacuumed the entire house, emptying the canister several times, and put away clothes and various other junk we brought with us.
Dr. B came home.
"Wow! The floor looks... like a floor!" He said. "And the bathroom sink! How did you get it so shiny?"
"I cleaned it. That's what soap does. It leaves a film."
"Is that why you clean it so often?"
"Yeah, that would be why."
"Huh. Well. Um, I don't have any pants for tomorrow. Or underwear. Except the ones I don't like. The skeevy ones."
"Did you do any laundry while I was gone?"
"Yes!" he said, with a big grin. "I washed some towels!"
I guess he does need me.