No better man

My husband is a saint. On Thursday afternoon the childminder was sick, he stepped into the breach and picked up the children from school and minded them (the disadvantage of being self-employed is that you tend to be more available for domestic crises than your office bound spouse). While he was at it, he left in the man from the cable company who fixed our television (he also rang them and stayed on hold for hours to get this service). On Thursday night, a friend of mine came to stay the night. I met her in town and we went for dinner while Mr. Waffle continued to tame children at home. When we got back about midnight I discovered that he had tidied the house within an inch of its life. I slightly undermined the effectiveness of this by exclaiming to my friend in tones of awe: “It’s so tidy, I can’t believe it.” Due to the absence of a spare room in our lives (sigh), my friend was sleeping in the Princess’s room. Mr. Waffle had blown up an air mattress, upended the Princess’s bed to make room for it and even put out towels and fresh soap in the bathroom. I nearly died of happiness.

I had thought that my friend was leaving on Friday but discovered that she was leaving on Saturday and staying at a nasty airport hotel on Friday night. I felt that our air mattress was bound to be better and offered it to her. She accepted. Unfortunately, on Friday night I had a work reception followed by a concert for which my sister had already purchased tickets (the Coronas, alright, since you ask). So on Friday, my saintly husband picked up the children from school (as it was closing early), minded them from 12 to 2 (the disadvantage of being self-employed again), then left them in the care of the child minder. He returned home at 6.30, fed the children, put them to bed, tidied the house and then fed and entertained my friend.

Did I mention that every week day morning he gets up at 7 to make sandwiches for the children for school?

How lucky am I?