Between waking up at the crack of dawn to make a fancy breakfast to fighting the kids over them not helping out, to dealing with a wife who is laughing under her breath at the extremely unpolished way in which he goes about the business she carries out day in and day out, Mother’s Day is torture for husbands.
I often throw in the towel early in the day, either because I can’t bear the messy kitchen any longer (is it SO hard to clean up as you go?) or because it just plain feels weird to relax on the couch while the house is falling apart around me.
Not today. This year, I determined to let my husband and children feel the true impact of not having my full contribution in the home. That way, maybe they’d realize the true labor of love that is dinnertime. Maybe they’d see that counters don’t clean themselves. Perhaps they’d clue into the fact that the trash doesn’t take itself out.
It’s true. Mothers are magicians. Most of what we do goes relatively unseen. But if one could truly see the Herculean effort that goes on behind the scenes, it would seem almost miraculous.
So when our poor husbands make the ambitious attempt to duplicate the incredibly mundane(but absolutely essential!) tasks we undertake on a regular basis, it probably feels like torture. At least that’s how it appears when my husband conks out for a long nap each and every Mother’s Day.
Gosh, being mom for a day must be exhausting.
Being mom for a lifetime, however? It’s everything I always wanted. And I’m not just saying that because my kids made dinner tonight.
