It was Jeff's turn to clean the kitchen. We have a very haphazard system of figuring who's turn it is to clean the various rooms in the house with the kitchen needing most of the attention. Last night, Jeff experimented with an Indian dish called Major Gray Chicken (it was fab) and he is a disaster in the kitchen. The understanding is "you make a big mess, you clean it up" and "the kitchen gets dirty, if I do the dishwasher, you unload and reload." Or something close to that.

Last night, good food, big mess and a promise to get to it today.

Today, I looked at that mess and thought about how my love would be tired and need to do the garbage when he got home from his work. (I love that he never considers me "not working" because I'm a full time freelance author.) And thought, I have some time and Jeff is awesome. So I will clean this up for him because I love him. Or my brain thought this in series of feelings and images.

So, cleaned up kitchen. He noticed.

Happy spouse, happy house.