Yesterday I announced that I was going on strike.
It was rainy and cold outside. We had no plans (for once). And I had absolutely no desire to fight the sleepiness threatening to take over.
So immediately after church, I changed into a pair of comfy sweatpants and a sweater and informed Nate that I wasn’t even going to make dinner. Naive girl that I am, I expected his shoulders to hunch in disappointment as he realized that he would have to go an evening without my amazing cooking skills.
Instead, his eyes widened as he asked, “Can we have KFC?”
Fried chicken. It’s my husband’s first love.
Me? I prefer little balls of fuzzy fur that snuggle under my chin and beg for kisses. So I let Nate have his fried chicken, and we both ended up being very happy.
.(What can I say… Small things amuse us).
So going on strike was just what I needed… This morning, I feel like a brand new woman, raring to go despite the fact that it’s raining AND Monday. Well, I’m mostly raring to go anyway. 😉