In My Next Life....

OK, when I signed up for this, it was with the intention of just being able to respond to my awe inspiring friends, but some things happened this weekend that really got me thinking. In my next life, I am pretty sure I want to be a man. I want to preface this with the statement that I truly love my husband, and he is a great husband and father. With that said, there are just some things he really doesn't get! As you all know, we have 3 beautiful children - two of which run us crazy with almost daily sporting events, then add 7 month old Silas into the mix, and I am not even guaranteed a shower daily!
Well, with yesterday's cold and rain, Mark offered to take over most of the soccer duty so that I could keep Silas warm and dry at home. After the first game, I receive a phone call from him....."Hello", I say. "DingDingDingDingDing!" comes the reply from the other end. "What is it?" I ask. "Oh, those are just my points racking up, don't you hear them?" he banters back. Well, long story short, between construction at Berea Community and every soccer and little league team seemingly playing at the same time, he had parked what seemed like miles away and was "hiking" back to get the car to pick the children up. I proceeded to praise him for being such a great father and thoughtful husband.
Fast forward to 5:15, next soccer game, only this time at Lake Reba where the wind always whips, and it is at least 5 degrees colder. Just as Madison's game begins, the rain joins in. After setting up my chair, Mark puts the gigantic golf umbrella over himself, me, and Silas. Emory, oblivious as usual, is running around with his jacket hanging off tossing the football "to himself". Apparently there is some fun in that. A few minutes later, Mark has had enough and takes both boys to the van, and I remain to brave the elements and cheer on our first born. By halftime, I am frozen, so I join my boys in the van. Again being thoughtful, Mark says, "You take the boys home, and I will stay with Madison." I thank him, kiss him, and buckle the baby. I can see by the look on his face, he is mentally adding up his "points". Later that night, he goes out with a friend from work, and I crash early with Silas.
Up at 6:00 a.m. with Silas this morning, then I did manage to squeeze in a nap for about an hour. 10:00 a.m. the whole family is up, and all wanting something different for breakfast. After doing my job as a short order cook, I sit down to give the baby his next bottle. Madison comes up to inform me that she has soccer pictures with the little team she coaches at 12:30 and a game at 1:30. OK, my hair has not been washed since Thursday night, so I look at Mark and say, "Can you take her?" Apparently, points are not enough of an incentive here because the tirade begins. Something about this being his weekend, too. After about a minute of this Madison is crying, and I am biting my lip to keep from laughing out loud! Begrudgingly, he takes her and when he comes home is in a much better mood, and begins doing the dishes from breakfast. As he washes and hands them to me to dry, he says, "Just say, 'thank you, honey'". I do, but this time I cannot hold in the laughter, and at this moment, I know I have my first blog.
Why is it that men need to be thanked for doing the things that no one notices we do - unless we don't do them? I cannot count the times I have done dishes, with no recognition whatsoever. Don't get me wrong, I don't mean to sound ungrateful, but this phenomenon never ceases to amaze me! Should I say, "Thank you for doing more than nothing."? I don't think that men are capable of understanding the countless jobs for which a working mother is responsible. If this is a game, I can't wait to start counting up my points! In my next life.....