On Friday night, in a mad dash to prepare for a much-needed outing with friends, my goal was to tackle the bedtime shuffle and then focus on the other stuff, i.e., getting myself dressed, picking up a little, doing some dishes and some cleaning.

As luck would have it, the kid protested bedtime. For 35 minutes.

Of course he did.

And so, I needed help.

“What can I do?” Jeff asked.

Pointing to the parade of plastic cars, random bowls and chewed-up board books I begged, “Can you help me pick up all these toys?”

“Oh, and would you mind cleaning the toilet super-quick, too?”

Clean toilets are a must—even for the babysitter.

After I tidied up the kitchen, it was finally time to dress myself. Only 20 minutes to spare.

On my hands and knees, searching for that brown flip flop that Jack hid, I heard, “Tchhhhhhhhhhh. Tcchhhhhhhhhh. TCCCCCCCCHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.”

And then I smelled exactly what I heard: Lysol Crisp Linen.

And then I tasted it.


In our tiny closet-sized bathroom, Jeff commandeered a mushroom cloud of Lysol to tackle the task at hand. Because three small sprays just was not enough.
Oh, yes he did.

Ostensibly, I was grateful for his help (I always am!!) As usual, there’s a but…

“BUT, that’s not how I usually do it,” I told him.

I showed him the Seventh Generation bathroom spray right next to the Lysol.

“I just spray things down with this, but no biggie. It’s cool.”

*hack* I gagged and coughed for good measure. My God, it stunk.

“Oh, yeah, I guess I did go a little overboard,” he admitted.

Unable to wait for the cloud to clear, I held my breath and excused myself to use the newly Super-Sanitized toilet.

YUCK. *hack* YUCK

I opened the door, scowled and quietly confessed, “You see, the problem with using that much Lysol is that my ass now smells like Crisp Linen.”

And without hesitation he explains, “If it’s any consolation, I think it’s extremely sexy.


He laughed at me, I laughed at him. We laughed at each other.

We have our moments that stink, but this wasn’t one of them. haha!

This, my friends, is the father of my child. He lifts me up daily, makes sure we’re on the straight and narrow, keeps me sane and yes, he makes me laugh endlessly. Lysol-ass included.

The way our little boy looks at him with such admiration and intrigue, it gets me every time. To hear the two of them laugh and giggle like they’re the best of friends is an instant anti-depressant. Oh, and the family days…I just can’t get enough. Everything in life comes so easily to him, and fatherhood suits him just as well.

There isn’t much more to add to my many diatribes about how wonderful he is, but to sum it up, yeah, he kicks ass.



Happy Father’s Day, babe. You rock!


To my incredible dad, thank you for all you do! You continue to inspire me daily.

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