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That being said, this weekend was sunny, not just in the Seattle area, but in the marriage area as well. With the pressures of my current job dwindling as I approach the end of it, I have more time for the family, and am decidedly less stressed. And it has had positive effects on my relationship with the good Dr. We actually had a date and went to the movies. Held hands. He even put in a well-time playful ass-grab when we were supposed to be doing something else with the family. And last night, when I was sick as a dog, he brought me home a big bouquet of mixed white flowers. I guess he still tolerates me. And tolerance is a virtue.
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Last night, in my coughing fits, I tried to finish up the business and personal taxes. This is usually a dangerous area, as it makes me cranky, and its an area of business where DrChako, for all of his advanced degrees, innate intelligence, and mind-numbing command of all things medical, has absolutely NOOOOOOO concept of or interest in. I can safely estimate that half of our marital squabbles usually revolve around the business and/or personal taxes.
My oldest son popped in to say "good night" as the two of us sat there going over some of the last details. Unprovoked, Son #1 said "Doing taxes? Thanks for keeping everything in order, Mom." Then he turned to his dad and said "I hope I marry someone who'll do my taxes for me." It made me feel good on a number of levels. First, because he is a sweet boy for thanking me. Second, because he's maturing and realizing some of the contributions we each make to running a household. And third, because I know that for as much frustration the Dr. has about taxes, in general, and more specifically, me doing his taxes, . . . well, somewhere along the way he's still managed to communicate to our son that what I do for the family (however painful it is for DrChako) is important.
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I'm pretty lucky to have a good, thoughtful, patient husband.
Now if only I could get him to understand taxes . . .