My husband is better than your husband. Sometimes he goes on cleaning jags, zipping around at lightening speed, totally focused and totally thorough. Yesterday, he decided it was time to clean the kitchen floor (and he had a point). He swept, vacuumed, mopped, scrubbed and swabbed the corners with a rag on his hands and knees. No, I don’t get it either. But I’m sure glad he’s around.
This isn’t going to be a food blog that goes on and on about how wonderful my partner is — there are enough of those already and I have to admit I find them kind of annoying. But dang. That man can sparklify. And someone needs to know about it.
Homes, said I, can we make this a weekly gig?
Not on your life, he replied, now get to the grocery store while the gettin’s good.