Our kitchen was a pit last night. Dishes piled in the sink, food splatters on the stove, tupperware filed with growing green stuff. Just out and out gross. I will admit that I was partially responsible. I’ve been handing my dishes to Kevin at night under the assumption that he was cleaning them. And, as we all know, when you make an assumption, you make an ass out of yourself and umption..

So I spent twenty minutes loading the dishwasher, scrubbing the counters, and mumbling mild obscenities to myself. Kevin, smart man that he is, grabbed the dog and went for a long walk that lasted well through my cleaning tirade. Upon his return, he found me still grumpy so be began to do his Christopher Walken Weapon of Choice dance imitation. He knows that melts me every time.