Sunday, February 12, 2012
He's the one washing the dishes. Again. Right after he mopped the floors clean. Washed and hung the clothes to dry. Dropped by the grocery to buy daily essentials. And bought takeout for both of us.
I've been bedridden for days, and I feel guilty that's hubby's doing all the work. I just lie here the entire day whining about the pain, most likely psychosomatic anyways, demanding for his attention.
I know it's unfair, and at times I wonder if he ever thinks of me as a burden. An unnecessary load that he has to carry. And that in time, he may tire and start to question if this is what he signed up for.
"Thank you," I said as he tucked me in. "And I'm really sorry."
He merely brushed it off. "Why are you apologizing? In our next life together, it might be your turn to take care of me."
photo from tumblr.com