Empty Drawer

I got home from the gym this morning and plopped myself back in bed.  Kirk was in the shower when I got home, like he is most mornings, getting ready to head out to his gym and then off to work.

I grabbed my laptop and perused a few blogs, checked in on twitter, and read through some emails.  And I could hear Kirk going through his morning rituals in the bathroom.  The click of his deodorant.  The exact same water pressure speed that he uses every.day when he shaves.  The sound of his toothbrush. 

I grinned to myself because I love that I know those things about him.  I love that if a room full of 10 men were all doing those exact things, I could pick Kirk out just by KNOWING how he taps his razor on the side of the sink.

And then he did something amazing.

Small.  But amazing.

He walked into our bedroom to get dressed. (That's not the amazing part...by the way.)  He opened up the drawer where he keeps the shirts he works out in, and then shut it.  I cringed because I knew that drawer was empty.  That load of clothes was still in the washer.  And has been for 2 days.  And needs to be rewashed because now the clothes stink like soured gym shoes. 

But he didn't say anything.

He just walked to his closet where he keeps his other t-shirts and grabbed one of those.

And I realized that he does this all.the.time.

And then I just had to kiss him.

Because he never says anything. 

He goes to work everyday and works his tail off for his family.  But never so much as even utters a complaint about deadlines, schedules, or stress. 

He heads out everyday and trusts me to take care of his babies.  But he knows that I take a lot of naps and spend a lot of time on my computer, but never even hints that he wishes I didn't.

He comes home and usually has to step over huge piles of toys, blocks, and shoes not put away just to get to the kitchen to grab a glass of tea, which on some days isn't even made up yet.  But he just steps around it and comes in and plants big kisses on each and every one of us and tells us how glad he is just to be home.

And then he goes to get clothes out of his drawer...and they aren't there.  But he doesn't say anything.

I'm not sure why he doesn't.

Because I know it has to bother him. 

But I think he just respects me enough to not.  I know that I waste a lot of time around the house piddling on the computer, watching DVR'd episodes of GLEE over and over and over again, and catching cat naps on the couch.  But I take great comfort in being able to do those things and not feel guilty about them either, because I know that Kirk won't ever hound me about choosing a nap over folding a load of towels.  He just won't. 

Again...not because he's superman.  But because he respects me.

So this morning as I smiled to myself and counted out the rhythm of his razor taps, and then watched him open and close the empty drawer without a word....I decided that I want to be different.

I want his shelves and dresser drawers to be full.
I want his tea pitcher to be full every day.
I want there to be clean towels in the cabinet waiting on him.
I want there to be at least a clear path from the front door to his recliner.
I want there to be good food waiting for him when he gets home from work.

Because he deserves it.
Because I love him.
Because he loves us.

So blessed.