I love my husband, but...

When I come through the front door with arm loads of groceries (IN plastic bags, too, because I forgot my "hippy bags" at home), please don't continue to sit on the couch and drink your beer because "the movie is almost over."

And, when I walk back outside to retrieve MORE groceries, don't continue to sit on the couch. I don't care if you were getting ready to get up, just get up and help. And, when you see that I've shut & locked the front door, please don't ask me if there are more groceries in the car.

And, while I'm running around putting groceries away, don't ask me what we're having for dinner when you knew perfectly well that you were asked to start on a couple sides while I was at the store. I mean, I brought home a rotisserie chicken, but I was expecting to come home to the smells of sauteed fingerling potatoes and maybe some kind of a veggie. *sigh*

And, when dinner is finished, and I ask you to either put away the leftovers or load the dishwasher, don't go back to sitting on the couch. I mean, come on, give me a hand! The same goes with the laundry -- if you see me folding clothes, help me out a little and get your fold on!

And, when it's time to get the children in bed, don't just sit on the couch -- you and I both know that we have to light a fire under our son's booty to get him to brush his teeth (apparently the importance of good oral hygeine is not important to our five year old...oh, dear).

And, when you know that I've called the gas company's emergency line at 9pm at night, please don't fall asleep while you & I wait for the gas man to show up. It's already awkward enough having a stranger come into the house at night -- I mean, there was laundry everywhere -- but to have the gas man walk into the house while you're snoring louder than a hibernating grizzly bear? Seriously.

But, if you really are intent on sleeping on the couch, then by all means -- do so. I love ya, but I sure as heck don't mind having the king size bed all to myself. :)