No one seems to notice that clean underwear automatically appears in their dresser drawer. Or that clean sheets magically land on their beds twice a month. Or that nutritious meals appear on the table regularly.
Apparently, I am the only member of our household capable of:
- Emptying a backpack (and dealing with the contents thereof, such as school papers, wet snow gear, and stowaway Zhu Zhu Pets).
- Cleaning the litterbox. Cleaning anything, for that matter.
- Buying groceries.
- Letting the dogs out. Letting the dogs in. Feeding said dogs.
- Keeping track of the school schedule, which includes late starts, early dismissals, and "closed just for the hell of it" dates.
- Driving short people to gymnastics class.
- Keeping track of every birthday in our extended family and buying gifts for those occasions.
- Packing lunches.
I know it's really my own choice that I like to keep the house neat. It would just be nice to hear an occasional, "Hey, thanks." When I was growing up, it didn't matter if my mom handed my stad a pickle sandwich. He would say, "Aw, thank you, honey. That was the best pickle sandwich I ever had."
I was feeling a little frustrated the other day when the note below was slid under the bathroom door while I was in the shower. I have to confess that while it would be nice to be both loved and appreciated, one out of two ain't bad.