This morning my fiance woke up, took the dog to the park, rented a steam cleaner and went to town on our apartment. I don’t know if it’s possible to explain the joy that rises in me when he is overcome with the need to organize and clean.
He is not a dirty person, at least, not living with me.
We did have this conversation recently.
Me: I want to change the sheets on the bed
Him: Why? We just put them on like… two weeks ago.
Me: Because two weeks is too long. And I like clean sheets.
Him: In college, I went an entire semester without changing my sheets.
Me: That’s because you’re disgusting. And that means I slept in filthy sheets. Awesome.
But besides that fun fact, he’s game for a shiny sink, vacuumed carpets and folded laundry (especially folded laundry, meaning, I am not allowed to fold his shirts because I can’t do the whole “one-fell-swoop” t-shirt move).
Still, I like things cleaner / tidier than most, so when he does things like rearranges an entire room, mops the floors, recycles a year’s worth of paper (he’s a “stacker”) or donates a pile of stuff, it seriously makes me fall in love again. IN LOVE people.
Add to that the huge Thanksgiving grocery shopping excursion we just returned from, where he patiently scouted out all of the deals and carried the bags, and I am one lucky girl.