The peculiar things d does when he’s had a bad day for no particular reason.
I’ve learned not to probe, because he’d share if he wanted to. I reap the fruits anyway.
He’d offer a kiss, but not elaborate much. He’d scrub the shower floor squeaky clean with a used sponge, a dirty toothbrush, and a nasty toilet brush. He’d cook dinner, almost always a combination of potatoes and sausages with various sautéed veggies, usually buying them fresh rather than using whatever is left in the fridge.
He’d fix broken gadgets he’d put off for a long time; this time, it was the pop-up flash on my Canon ¹. He’d take apart his inline skates, scrubbing and oiling the crevices of every single wheel. He’d watch documentaries while solving a Rubik’s Cube he hadn’t touched in months. He’d remove the membrane from a grapefruit and have a frozen ice cream cone, sitting right next me with no words uttered. If I was lucky, he’d listen as I explained blood cell testing in inarticulate English.
Just honest housework, and I was grateful of it.
Footnotes
- That he broke in Alaska.