Aaron doesn’t know, but I was mad at him tonight. He’s not here; he’s out playing trivia with a group of nerds. (Lucky I love nerds, or that might have not sounded like an endearing comment.)
Anyway, I was mad, because I had to ask him to do something I think he should have done without me asking. That happens sometimes. I think people should just be on top of stuff, and instead of being okay making requests, I get annoyed and make them wrong. Sometimes I know better and let it go, and sometimes, I cause trouble and do a little of what you call, nagging.
Well tonight, I was feeling annoyed—like why should I have to ask for a bike to be moved from the middle of the living room to the garage, how long would it have taken if I said nothing. Then, as I have been doing lately, I thought about being a mom, and I thought about having two boys around, and I saw that a lot more of my life is probably going to be asking boys to do things, especially when it comes to putting things away—and I envisioned my choices: I could be miserable feeling like I should not have to make requests, or I could just plan on making requests—perhaps all of the time—for a long time as long as I can see into the future.
I didn’t get resigned about it; I just chose that that’s probably going to be part of being a mom, as it is a wife, lol, and I’d rather just ask then be miserable and make others miserable too.
Win for husband. And he can thank in unborn child, lol.
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