Thursdays are crazy around here.  Jessica has tennis at 5:30 and Pepper has soccer practice at 6:00.  Both of them are in different towns, about 30 minutes away from our house--in different directions.

We make this work by me dropping Jess at Brad's office at 5:00, who then takes her to the club for her tennis lesson.  From there, I drive home, pick Pepper up (who gets off the school bus at 5:10), and we high-tail it to his practice.  We usually make it pretty close to on-time.

Well, tonight, a wrench was thrown in the works when Brad didn't respond to MULTIPLE phone calls telling him Jess and I were waiting in his office parking lot.  Finally, at 5:30, we gave up and came home.  Luckily, Pepper's practice was cancelled, so it didn't foul things up for him.

Nevertheless, I was less than pleased to spend an hour of my time driving to Brad's office, waiting a half hour, then driving back home for no reason.  Plus, after tennis, Brad was supposed to take Jess to meet her friend Gyllian (at another town 45 minutes away), with whom Jess had plans to spend the weekend.  Because Brad was MIA, I "got" to do that too, which I had not planned on.

All this happened at dinnertime, which left the boys at home to fend for themselves.  I have to admit, the kitchen was not clean to begin with, so it was a real pigsty by the time Brad got home.  It turns out a MAJOR issue hit the fan at work, so he was in a frantic meeting, talking his boss off the ledge caused by a $60 million misunderstanding (Brad wasn't the problem--he was the guy called in to fix the problem.   Basically, he's the hero of the story).

Anyway, even though he had a totally good excuse for standing me up, Brad knew it wouldn't hurt to suck up to me.  So when I finally got home around 8:30 PM, I was greeted by my dreamy hubby giving the spotless kitchen one last wipe down.

He even hand-washed all the dishes that didn't fit in the dish washer.

He knows the way right to my heart.