I want a wife. you know, one of those women who clean, cook, do laundry…wonder where I can find one. oh, wait, that’s right…I AM ONE!

saturday morning, rich made me breakfast in bed, because:

  • he didn’t do anything for mother’s day, although the kids made it great; and he felt guilty
  • he thought he had to cover a co-worker’s saturday shift, but on his way to work, the other guy called him and told him he was going in. thus, he was free and full of joy, so he decided to celebrate by cooking breakfast. of course, he had to stop at the store and pick up the ingredients.

the result of said breakfast, while being yummy and enjoyable, was a horrendously messy kitchen.  and guess who cleaned it up?  now I’m faced with the inconvenient task of explaining that I’d rather not have breakfast in bed if I have to clean up afterwards.  it just detracts from the overall delightful experience.

I think every woman needs a wife, men have one, why shouldn’t we?  of course, most of my friends say they need a “personal assistant”, but isn’t it really the same thing?

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