Ross is on his way to a big interview. It's his second interview for an asst store manager position (or management training program, something like that) at the Denver Mattress Co. It's up on my side of town so he stayed here last night and this morning, it was almost like I was his cute little wifey sending him off to work.
Fixed him breakfast while he showered, evaluated his tie tying, gave him the once over (for the record, he looks sharp), sent him out the door with a kiss and a "good luck! call me!"
I probably won't spend many years as a stay at home wife for any man, but there's something comfortingly traditional about helping one's sweetie get out the door to bring home the bacon. Maybe because its a novelty still, but I don't mind some of the traditional woman roles. I like cooking dinner for Ross, timing it to be done within 10 minutes of when he gets here. I love making breakfast and sitting together lazily to eat it on a Sunday morning. I even like to fix his plate for him when I do the cooking - of course he's a good man and always fixes my plate if he's done the cooking.
I do, however, draw the line at ironing his clothes, as he asked if I would do last night. One failed puppy dog face from him and it went from "will you iron my shirt?" to "can you bring me the iron and ironing board so I can iron my shirt?" Why yes, dear, let me get that for you.