This morning, I was folding a load of the girls laundry. Ben came up, looked at the pile rather bewilderedly and said, "I don't even know which clothes belong to which child anymore!" Then he spotted a leotard, folded it, and put it on top of a pile. "At least I know who THAT belongs to!" He smiled triumphantly. I looked at it, tried my hardest not to laugh, and replied, "Then why did you put Ava's leotard on top of Molly's dress pile?"
This interaction had me thinking all day, though: Ben is a pretty extraordinary husband. He may not be able to sort the kids' clothes correctly, but at least he folds them. And after a week of doing heaven-knows-what in his Navy reserve course he's taking, he came home and this morning did his own load of laundry. Didn't even ASK me to do it. He watched the younger two this morning while Ava and I ran an errand. Ben doesn't cook dinner as much as he used to, but only because he gets home later with this new job - he's always been more than willing to help with meals, as he did this evening. Every now and then Ben will hint (or outright say) that he feels under-appreciated. I tend to rag on him with the reply, "If you were any different I wouldn't have married you." And in a sense it's true: I married him because he's not a bum who goes to work and then comes home to sit on his butt while I do all the chores. He may load the dishwasher wrong or put the kids' clothes in the wrong drawer, but I appreciate all that he does, and if nothing else give him an A+ for effort.
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