Jeff's proving better at domesticity than I'll ever be...

Sunday we found out that Jeff's oldest sister (Jen) who is pregnant with kid #6 is really sick, having a difficult time breathing/moving/thinking/talking so we came down to help out with their 5 kids. Jeff has been running circles around me since we got here. Granted, I do have a stupid head cold that I can't take medication for, and I forgot my earplugs so Jeff's snoring has been pretty fantastic, but still. I just get finished patting my back for getting the youngest to sit down and watch Little Einsteins for 5 minutes when I hear him vacuuming upstairs, and that is right after seeing him put the 10th load of laundry in the washer. And yesterday every time I looked at dryer to see if the cycle was almost finished, it wasn't. Then I realized that he was managing to take a load out, fold it, and put a new load in without me even realizing what had happened. I better go "check" on him-- he's making spaghetti sauce in the crockpot for dinner tonight. I love that man.

But before I go, PICTURE THIS:
If we lived in the 1940's/1950's and Jeff was a woman he would be the kind that vacummed designs on the carpet while wearing a dress, heals, and pearls (all matching) with hair perfectly set and dinner just out of the oven when his spouse came home.

I, on the other hand, would probably be an alcoholic.