For the last several (okay, ten) days,
I have been driving around with a
fifty pound bag of dog food in the trunk of my car.
One of the drawbacks of having a husband
that works in a different state Monday through Friday?
No man-muscles to carry the heavy stuff into the house.
When Sully ran out of puppy kibble last night,
I even contemplated boiling him chicken and rice
for dinner. A meal that would take longer to prepare
than my own dinner of grilled cheese and salad.
I put on my big girl boots (also known as Uggs)
and trekked outside to lug Sully's dinner into the house.
After a good chuckle or two and watching me struggle with
an awkward fifty pound sack full of kibble,
a couple of lacrosse stick-toting, shaggy-haired high school boys
offered to help an ol' lady out.
Chivalry is not lost.
But I sure do miss my husband's muscles.