Lucky

We are in the midst of a bathroom remodel.  My vision for the bathroom is buried underneath tiles, tools, and tape measures. The bathroom is gutted down to its bare bones.  Someday soon, there will be a new shower and a beautiful claw foot tub for soaking.  Someday there will be, but today it’s a mess.

“You’re so lucky,” my friends tell me.  “You’re so lucky to have a husband who is so handy.”

Lucky, I am.  He is doing all the work himself.  The plumbing, the electrical work, the installation of the tub and shower, the tile…everything.

But that’s not why I’m lucky.

I’m lucky because each night around 7:30, he sets down his tools.  He washes his hands, dusts the debris off his shirt.  He takes off his work boots and puts a smile on his face.  Up the stairs he goes to read some books, give some kisses, and tuck his girls in for the night.  He could choose to keep working.  I could certainly handle the bedtime routines by myself.  But he doesn’t want to miss it.  “I yub you, Daddy,” I hear Katie say.  “I love you, too, Katie,” he replies.

Lucky, indeed.  So very lucky.

Join in Slice of Life Story writing on Tuesdays!  Add your link at Two Writing Teachers.

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