Men Make No Sense

No sense at all, I swear.

This week, Hubby hired a maid to clean our basement. He cooked dinner, twice. He took the Sons to the pool, twice. He took me out for lunch at our favorite restaurant, just the two of us. He can't stop complimenting my hair, even. He's been batting a thousand, consistently, on all fronts, for days.

And until I spelled this all out for him, he had NO IDEA that any of this would make me happy. He had NO IDEA that I would be delirious with joy to have, for example, most of Sunday to myself in a silent house in which I need not cook, clean, or ride herd, so I could meet my Monday deadlines for work.

I don't understand this, one bit. I mean, I have spent the past few days feeling like I have a wife, ok? Free to think! Free to work! Accomplishing stuff! Earning money and praise in the Outside World! And he...doesn't immediately see how fabulous that is? I don't get it.