I hate doing the dishes. Or, at least I used to hate it. Now, I kind of like it. Weird, huh?
When was a bachelor, I used to let the dishes pile up for days, even a week or two, at a time. If I did enough take out I could fit almost two weeks in the sinks at once. Use some disposable plates, I could take it even further. If I’d rinse off the dishes so nothing grew on them then it wasn’t so bad.
Terrible, right? Now you see what my wife had to deal with when she moved in.
For the first several months of our marriage I’d just keep on doing what I had done for years, and she would do the dishes for us. After a while she’d get miffed about it, but she never said anything. I was really selfish and didn’t do anything about it. Yeah, I know weak move.
But then, over the last five or six weeks, I have developed a sense of need to get the dishes done. I feel almost compelled to. You see, Lindsey has very, very little time free these days. I don’t have much free either, but because I do work from home a good bit of the time I am around more. I’d noticed what a stresser a dirty kitchen was for her, and unlike laundry or some of the other stuff around the house, she did not get any kind of stress relief or enjoyment out of doing it. So, I started making a point of getting it done for her.
She’s noticed and made little positive comments and compliments before, but today she took the time to look at me seriously and say, “thank you”. I am not doing the dishes all the time for the thanks, I am doing it to help her and show her I love her. But, it is always nice to be recognized, and know that it means as much to her as I intend for it too.
It’s a good feeling.