With only 6 weeks left until the arrival of Baby Run DMT #3, the countdown is on and my husband’s honey-do list reads more like a scroll.
- Wine and dine me, minus the wine of course even though I could sure use a glass about now. But as you know, it’s been a couple of months since our last date night. Let’s squeeze one in before I squeeze out this baby.
- Paint the nursery (formerly known as the playroom). Truthfully, I want the entire house painted, because I am tired of looking at white walls and unfinished skirting boards. However, we’ll start with one small request and maybe your inner Michelangelo will shine and then you’ll feel inspired to paint the rest of the house. But, we’ll start with baby steps for the baby’s room.
- Put the crib together. Without a crib or a cradle, I fear he could develop a Messiah complex.
- Buy a dresser for the baby’s room. You know which one I’ve had my eye on, so be a dear and please pick it up on your way home from work one night or I will be forced to shop at IKEA and you know how dangerous that could be. And I’ll leave the kids in Ikea’s free child care facility. On second thought, I’ll buy the dresser.
- Clean and tidy the office. It should resemble a small office rather than air conditioned storage.
- Sweep me off my feet. There’s nothing more arousing than a clean kitchen floor. A man with a mop is one sexy beast.
- Plant some flowers in our garden because I do not find rock gardens aesthetically pleasing nor do they bring me much Zen.
- Plant a tree. When we first moved into our house, you planted a weeping willow in our backyard and for months, this beautiful symbol of our new beginning brought me such joy. And then it died. So, to celebrate my birthday and the arrival of a new baby (which are only a few days apart just to remind you), I am requesting a larger, healthier weeping willow.
- Vacuum out my car. I could probably feed Haiti with all the crumbs and droppings on my car floor. Seriously, it’s like an-all you can-eat-buffet from what our kids couldn’t eat in there. Gross.
- Buy a car seat. Otherwise, start saving for each night I am forced to stay in the hospital because no nurse will allow me to leave unless our baby is strapped into some infant seat.
- And while you’re shopping, buy me a trinket. Something shiny and sparkly to show your love and appreciation for pushing a ten pound baby and his huge head out of my who-ha.
Thank you in advance.
Your adoring wife and mother of your children.
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