The other day my dear husband pops his head around a doorway to where I am with a riddle:
"How do you know when you're a domestic goddess?" He asked.
His answer?
"When you're rinsing poopy cloth diapers in the toilet with hot pink rubber gloves."
"Seriously," he says, "how many guys do you know that would wear pink gloves and plunge poopy diapers in the toilet?" I think I burst his bubble a little when I actually could come up with a few names of guy friends of ours that likely would do exactly that. It doesn't make my dear spouse any less wonderful though - and it does make me just that much more proud to think how many great guys I know. Next time you're having a drink, toast to the man you know who would be willing to refer to himself, proudly, as a "domestic goddess." Cheers!
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