He Works Hard for the Money

Anyone who knows my sweetie (I call him, "Bay"... I guess short for "baby"), knows that he is a hard working man. Like... worked all day, cut the grass, weeded the garden, washed the clothes, picked the kids up, fed the kids, bathed the kids, read to the kids, fluffed their pillows and gave them zerbets (a raspberry a la Cosby Show), hard. And after all that, he doesn't even register a sigh when I ask him to pass me the remote, which is only a fingertip away, as he drags himself to the bedroom.

So when I asked him to "help me" tear down our front porch and transplant some flowers (read: you work, I tell you what to do, you smile and nod), I felt like I was asking too much, especially since he had already done his good deed for the day... he brought me breakfast in bed. But in true, "anything you'd like, honey," fashion, he jumped right on the case.

Bam, BAM... down came the first panel. Crack, clank... "Hmm, where can I donate these storm windows?" Pow, smash... never mind... a dust pan will do.

It seemed like hours passed, but this guy would not get off the clock.

Me: "Bay... are you hungry?"
Him: "No, pass the hammer."
Me: "Bay, do you want some iced tea?"
Him: "Nope... can you pass me the scraper?"
Me: "BaaYY, the mosquitoes are out!"
Him: "Go ahead inside... I'll be in soon."

Even though I felt so bad, probably because I would need to put a few drops of Campho Phenique in his water, like mama used to do for us to soothe those bug bites (old Southern remedy), deep inside, I think was glad he pressed on... besides, I did not want him to feel like he did not meet my...er...umm... his goal.

Finally, when the glow of the street lamp shining on him cast a shadow over the last pile of scraps, and he could no longer see past the end of his rake, he reluctantly threw in the towel. He would never say it, but I owe him one... big time...

When I arranged the picnic blanket on the living room floor ('cause the bugs cancelled my outdoor reservation for a party of two)... set out the plates of al dente rigatoni with a "backyard garden fresh" roasted tomato, red onion and yellow pepper ragout tossed with (fresh picked) sage infused butter (inspired by my class at Rustico Cooking)... poured two chilled glasses of a 2007 from Veritas.... lit the candle... and got lost for a minute in the eyes of my hard working guy, I thought to myself... "he works hard for the money, so I'd better treat him right."