I love when the husband surprises me. And that doesn’t necessarily mean with gifts (although I like that, too).
On Saturday, I woke up in a bad mood and immediately told Kenny that we would be spending some time cleaning and organizing because “this place is closing in on me!!!” Because he’s awesome, Kenny didn’t take my mood too personally and proceeded to spend the next three hours quietly organizing drawers and filing cabinets. When we were finished (and my mood considerably improved) I joined him on the couch. “You know,” I said “it’s finally clean enough in here that I’m no longer against pulling out my sewing machine and mending your jeans like you’ve been asking me to do (for a while).”
He looked at me slyly and said “Oh, I already did that. It took, like, ten minutes. No big deal.”
After I picked my jaw up off the floor, I denied that was possible. He stood up (wearing the jeans) and showed me. He did a great job; it had been a pretty big tear. “You mean you got the machine out, threaded it, and actually did that all by yourself?! And you didn’t break anything?!” I asked/exclaimed, still somewhat shocked. He shrugged (and kind of smirked). “Yeah. Like I said it wasn’t a huge deal.”
My husband is a man of many (hidden) talents. I love him. And I love when he surprises me.
Edited to include the cause of said Rip in Jeans - apparently he ripped them while skateboarding to school. I sometimes want to take a picture of him with his back pack on holding his 80's Powell Peralta (sp?) board. It's really cute, actually. He kind of looks like a little boy. However, when I suggest it he rolls his eyes and walks out the door. I can almost hear my future son whining at me as I try to take a photo of him doing the same thing.