Huh??

I have proof my husband adores me.  

I'm serious.  I really do.

I'm not talking about the fact that he cleans two of the four bathrooms every.single.week and cooks the majority of our meals (I love he does this but lets face it... he realizes that if he doesn't do it it just ain't getting done. One of my many talents is my complete and total mastery of the "blank look" when someone asks me what is for dinner).

I'm not talking about the fact that when I'm seriously mad like "mad enough to dump your clothes in a big pile and burn them" mad, I give him the MEANEST looks. Any human being on this planet and probably the majority of the members of the chimpanzee kingdom could understand the "I can make your life miserable in a million ways chump so you better toe the line" look in my eye.  Except Darren.  He seriously EVERY TIME says "WHY ARE YOU GIVING ME BEDROOM EYES?".    AND HE MEANS IT...  after twenty years I really honestly think he still doesn't get it.

I'm not even talking about the fact that he will never get a yard without weeds because I am constantly booking trips to places we can't afford instead of installing a sprinkling system.  My poor husband has to drag sprinkler in the back yard.  And he's not great at it. In fact last week Grandpa Taylor was lighting off fireworks for E2's birthday in our backyard and the grass literally CAUGHT ON FIRE.  What did I do about it? I booked a trip to Disneyland for a week in April people.  

My proof is the fact that he taught Primary with me today.

And not just any primary class...

The SUNBEAM class.

We're talking thirteen three year old's that have just been released from sitting for an hour and a half in sacrament meeting and can't even be bribed with sugar because how else do you think their parents made it through the last 90 minutes?  Sunbeams are wiggly. They are sticky. They have a tendency to eat their boogers, run into the wrong bathroom, fall off their chairs, and store things in their underwear (True story. My best advice to you is never EVER use the crayons from the church library. Bring your own from home people. I'm saying this out of pure love for my fellow man).

When the Primary Counselor called last week and asked if I'd do it she warned me that this was a wild group and that I either needed to bring Darren with me or be prepared to be tied up, gagged, and unable to reach the suggested emergency walkie-talkie.  She did indicate that pepper-spray or a taser may be a tempting option but that it could easily be seized and used against me.  She also warned me that they are like lemings and move in mass, suggesting I stay away from high cliffs, busy roads, and the bishop who is known to keep treats in his pockets. 

The hour of class time with the Sunbeams isn't the worst part.  At least then you can barricade them all in one room and feed them benadryl and play ring-around-the-rosie 500 times.  It is the hour of singing time that makes you think that Peter really would have shown his faith if he would have been able to positively direct thirteen children for an hour rather than walking on water.

Darren very early in our marriage figured that if he consistently washed the red laundry with the white laundry he would be forever banned from touching the washing machine.  He uses this same thought process when it comes to church callings. He has no problem losing kids in the next Ward's sacrament meeting, building forts out of the tables and chairs, and leading indian-style raids on the nursery snack closet.  In his mind it just serves as a reminder to the Primary President that he should NEVER be called to teach Primary.
 
Spending two hours with me and thirteen little cherubs is a true labor of love especially considering the fact that Darren likes to use the third hour of church to visit the gas station for some liquid refreshment.  It is a known fact that church makes Darren both tired AND thirsty.  Our wise Elder's Quorum president finally assigned Darren to be the home teacher to a non-active member that works at Texaco on Sundays.  At least the President can report that not only did Trudie get visited this month, but she was checked on FOUR DIFFERENT TIMES.



So yes my husband loves me. He only did it because I asked him too (and because I gave him some mean looks he just couldn't resist).

He got a caffeine headache and the shakes but he did it. 

AND he's still making my dinner.