Dawn Dish Detergent is not an Aphrodisiac

I love my husband. Really, I do. And most of the time, I even genuinely like him. So, keep that in mind while you read this blog.

Why in the world would my husband think that while I'm doing the dishes is the time to come and try to "holla" - I mean - REALLY! This scenario plays out again and again and again - my kitchen is a disaster area. DIS-AS-TER. I'm at the sink, frantically scrubbing dishes and loading the dishwasher like I'm training for the Olympics. I've also managed to pick up no fewer than 3 pairs of socks, 2 towels, and the babysons discarded pants from earlier in the day so I could start a load of laundry. I have one goal in mind - getting the kitchen clean so I can cook supper for my family - and freakin SIT DOWN for the first time in ages.

And now, here comes David. Empty handed, mind you, he hasn't picked up the laundry or the stray dish that I missed on my way to the sink. And he's doing that walk - I don't think I can put it into words, but ladies - you know the walk. The walk where the lower end gets to you before any other part of his body. Yeah...that walk. The one that has the some value as shaking it at you.

I see him in my peripheral vision doing the leery creeper walk. I have an idea - surely if I rattle of my list of to dos before I can sit down, he'll get the clue that right now is not a good time. Or - maybe I can ask if the kids have had a bath? Does he see any laundry? Oh wait - a bird, a plane - a lone dish in the bathroom. Nothing. "I don't see any babe, creeper shuffle creeper shuffle." "Nope babe, you got em all" - creeper shuffle creeper shuffle. "I'll get it in a minute, right now I'm doing something else." Creeper shuffle creeper shuffle.

I mean - really?? Come on, Harris. And then it happens - suddenly I'm shoved against the sink. I've sloshed water all over myself from the bowl I was scrubbing. And this is what I hear...

wait for it.

wait for it.

"You busy?"

Seriously? What makes him think that while I'm elbow deep in dishwasher - scrubbing the bowl I found on the side of the couch that contained his LUCKY CHARMS from Saturday that I'm interested at ALL in being "busy".

This happens again and again! Why don't men get that the time to be romantic is AFTER they've helped you put the laundry away or cleared the dinner plates. After they swept the living room floor - just cause. My new line - be my help mate - and I'll be your bed mate!!

'Just sayin...
:)

I really do love him.