Pulling his weight....
Today Steven was still home when I drug myself out of bed at 6:00 a.m.
Generally, at this time he has been gone for a good hour.
Working for himself, you would think that he would afford himself the luxury of at least waiting until daylight to start working.
No. Not my husband.
I walked into the kitchen and met him as he was coming in from the garage.
He had just changed the oil in his truck.
By. Six. O. Clock. In. The. Morning.
(I feel like such a slacker....)
"What is on your agenda today?", I asked, knowing that he never has anything BUT a full agenda.
"Well, I have to finish up a job and hang a couple of gates....then I have to go to town and get some more pipe, then I need to drop off a bill ...." as he kept talking I lost track of all the things to do on his 'to do' list.
Then he said, "I think I will take Mr. B with me".
This made me smile.
Steven is a hard worker. I have yet to meet someone who works harder.
Even more impressive is the fact that he is an outstanding father. I have yet to meet one better.
Mr. B was going to be so excited. He always is when he gets to work with his daddy.
I went into the bedroom and knelt down by the side of the bed, laying the upper portion of my body over the side, towards my baby.
He was sleeping and there is nothing as sweet, or as soft. I swept my hand along side of his face and whispered, "B, do you want to go to daycare? Or would you like to go to work with daddy today?"
My still sleeping boy (it was, after all, only six) rolled over and with his eyes still shut, a broad smile spread across his face as he whispered "daddy".
*********************
In a matter of minutes he was up, dressed, and out the door, clinging to his daddy's neck with a honey bun in his free hand.
As they loaded up preparing for the day, I began preparing for mine.
When I noticed they were about to leave I headed out to the garage and found myself at the passengers side of Steven's truck giving instructions to Mr. B.
"Make sure daddy drives safe."
"Mind daddy."
"Be good."
"Work hard."
The last one got a response. "I do work hard everyday. In my dirtpile."
And it is true. This boy of mine does work very hard at staying dirty.
Even though his 'work day' had yet to begin, I was pretty sure I knew what it held:
Generally, at this time he has been gone for a good hour.
Working for himself, you would think that he would afford himself the luxury of at least waiting until daylight to start working.
No. Not my husband.
I walked into the kitchen and met him as he was coming in from the garage.
He had just changed the oil in his truck.
By. Six. O. Clock. In. The. Morning.
(I feel like such a slacker....)
"What is on your agenda today?", I asked, knowing that he never has anything BUT a full agenda.
"Well, I have to finish up a job and hang a couple of gates....then I have to go to town and get some more pipe, then I need to drop off a bill ...." as he kept talking I lost track of all the things to do on his 'to do' list.
Then he said, "I think I will take Mr. B with me".
This made me smile.
Steven is a hard worker. I have yet to meet someone who works harder.
Even more impressive is the fact that he is an outstanding father. I have yet to meet one better.
Mr. B was going to be so excited. He always is when he gets to work with his daddy.
I went into the bedroom and knelt down by the side of the bed, laying the upper portion of my body over the side, towards my baby.
He was sleeping and there is nothing as sweet, or as soft. I swept my hand along side of his face and whispered, "B, do you want to go to daycare? Or would you like to go to work with daddy today?"
My still sleeping boy (it was, after all, only six) rolled over and with his eyes still shut, a broad smile spread across his face as he whispered "daddy".
*********************
In a matter of minutes he was up, dressed, and out the door, clinging to his daddy's neck with a honey bun in his free hand.
As they loaded up preparing for the day, I began preparing for mine.
When I noticed they were about to leave I headed out to the garage and found myself at the passengers side of Steven's truck giving instructions to Mr. B.
"Make sure daddy drives safe."
"Mind daddy."
"Be good."
"Work hard."
The last one got a response. "I do work hard everyday. In my dirtpile."
And it is true. This boy of mine does work very hard at staying dirty.
Even though his 'work day' had yet to begin, I was pretty sure I knew what it held:
Chocolate milk,
dirty boots,
.....and big smiles.
You know, I always was a sucker for man who wasn't afraid to jump in and get his hands dirty.
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