I peeked around the corner into the living room, and shook my head in irritation.
Just as I suspected, my husband was asleep in the chair.
I turned back into the kitchen to finish making dinner. As I banged the pans around, the thoughts banging around in my mind went something like this:
Seriously? He’s napping? I mean, he’s the one with the cushy life. He gets to leave this zoo every morning and go to his  nice, sterile work environment, where there’s white noise and coffee pots brewing. He gets to sit at a desk and do something productive. He doesn’t have to constantly keep track of several sneaky little sinners or clean up other people’s messes or stress out over the constant bickering.

Then, I stopped. I realized that he might think this was a perfect description of what he does all day—only with grownups. And he doesn’t have much control over his environment.
Not the way I do. I can turn on some Christian music while I’m working. And if the kids aren’t getting along I can send them to their rooms for a time out. I can choose whether today is a work day or a play day, and I can even treat them to a special day out.
I glanced back in the living room with a new set of eyes. This time I smiled, and offered up a prayer of thanksgiving for this man, who works so hard to support our family.

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