For the past two years, my husband had this annoying habit of springing family visits on me at the last minute. He’d casually mention his parents or sister were “dropping by” which really meant I was expected to clean, cook, and entertain with almost no notice. I went along with it for a while. But not this time. It was a peaceful Saturday morning, and I was finally enjoying some downtime when he walked in with his usual smug grin and announced, “My family’s coming over in four hours.
Just a small thing.” Then he handed me a checklist all stuff I had to do: clean the kitchen, go grocery shopping, cook dinner and dessert, and even wipe down the baseboards! I couldn’t believe it. He flopped onto the couch like a king, ready to relax while I scrambled around. But instead of arguing, I smiled and said, “Sure, I’ll run to the store.” Then I grabbed my purse and drove to Target. And I stayed there. I got a latte, wandered the aisles, and took my sweet time doing absolutely nothing productive.
