**Feel Good Friday is Tomorrow!! Choose your prompt, write a post and link up!**
I lived in this house for many years before I met Tyler. This meant that I did most things for myself with the occasional help from my dad.
I don’t “do” any type of roof stuff.
Basically I was very independent and did all of the typical “man stuff.” I did all yard work, snow blowed, emptied and cleaned the garage twice a year, minor repairs, garbage, etc…
You get the idea.
My house. My work.
Even when I was dating Tyler and he offered to do things for me, I wouldn’t let him.
“Thank you, but I can do it. This is what I do.” I would tell him.
It killed him to watch me wheel barrel 11 cubic yards of mulch around my yard.
Then we got married and I got pregnant and he assumed some of the responsibilities.
9 months of being pregnant coupled with 2 months of barely being able to walk and sleep deprivation and we got into a routine.
He took out the garbage cans and brought them in on every garbage day. Yes, I did it, but not with the regularity that he did.
No biggie, right?
“Major biggie” I am to learn.
Because a couple weeks ago it was a nice day and I was outside and I brought the garbage cans in. He gets home and makes a BIG deal that I walked them in.
I didn’t know it irked him that I didn’t bring them in more often.
So this week, I was outside, and I brought them in again.
We are getting ready for bed and this is what transpires:
Tyler: Wow! 2 weeks in a row that you brought the garbage cans in!
Me: [Icy, cold stare.]
Tyler: You know, the appropriate response would be to say, “You’re Welcome.”
Me: Could you repeat that again? [Walking to get a notepad to write that ONE down.]
Now I am in a pickle.
Should I get the garbage cans every week, for the rest of my life, in sickness or in health, just to spite him?
Should I purposely walk out to the end of the driveway, NOT get them, and laugh maniacally each time?
Your advice is greatly appreciated.