If I tell you we need a new steamer, you should just hop along over to the vacuum store and bring one home. Unless that is, you want to do the cleaning...
The washer is not magic. It doesn't remove items from your pockets or set-in poop stains from onesies. Lets pretreat the laundry...or I could go shopping for replacements.
I am not your mother. I do not cook like your mother. Chicken-it's what's for dinner.
I work a full time job too. Then I come home to another one.
At that full time job, I'm on the clock all day-I won't be on yours.
It wouldn't hurt you to put your dirty clothes IN the laundry basket. Next to, under or 'in the general vicinity' doesn't count. I'll just fold them back up and put them in your drawer.
Open your ears-or I will pierce them in your sleep. Speaking of sleep-shave that beard or I'm going to carve tribal symbols into it with the dog clippers while you're snoozing.
I do complain about you to my mom-but rest assured, she still likes you. Remember-she had to deal with me for 18 years...
I love how you manage to stay calm for me when the baby gets hurt and I'm jumping around the house-although I know you're freaking out too-on the inside.
I love sneaking glimpses of you staring at Kin in awe of her.
I think it's darn cute to see you riding that bike trailer all over town with that big goofy grin on your face.
You cook better than me. Thank you.
I appreciate that you come home to non-existent thoughts of dinner and just start making something in the kitchen instead of complaining.
We love you very much.