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A twinkling sense of humor.

A home that needs deep cleaning, piles of laundry to do, sick and fussy kids, fussy wife (oops…), tired kids, tired err’body, piles of paper and clothes and toys everywhere, so many other things screaming for maintenance or attention, and — in the midst of all this — a husband and papa with a twinkling sense of humor.

Grateful this morning for JE.

Grateful that he sees the humor in these things.  Grateful for his perspective.  I mean, what can I do sometimes but laugh?  Not only at my circumstances but at my frazzled, frenzied attempts to get it all under control?  Not to mention my contradictory directions to everyone around me, as I want them to be everything and do everything at the same time?  (I’d make a terrible dictator.  I am a terrible dictator.)

In these moments, he could choose to respond in a number of ways.

But today, he dropped everything he was doing and pulled me in for a hug.  No words.  Just a you need holding hug.  Then he made me laugh.

(It’s very hard to be serious and stressed when your husband is doing a hula dance.)

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