Andre
I am scrubbing the tub and he’s folding his clothes in the other room, packing for a weekend away.
“You’re CLEANING?”, he yells. “It’s not even 7AM!”
“I’m in the mood to clean”, I yell over my shoulder as I walk towards the kitchen to grab the brush. The one I prefer for tub cleaning. The one that would scrub the face right off of a child, were ever used in such a capacity.
From the kitchen I continue, “I’m never in the mood to clean. And I don’t have time to do it this week. I’m booked until Sunday! So I’m cleaning. Go with it.”
I glance up. He is standing in the doorway staring down at me as I rummage through the cupboards.
“Are you sure you’re cleaning just because? OR, are you having a boy come over tonight, while I’m away?”
I grin. He grins back.
“No boy. It’s just been a crazy week and the bathroom was gross.”
He resumes his packing. I resume my cleaning.
We meet in the hallway at 7:32 and hug our goodbyes. On his way out the door, with his tux in hand, he reminds me to turn off the computer and put my keys in my purse so I don’t lock myself out. And as much as I’d like to dismiss this last bit of advice, I do have a tendency to lock myself out so instead, I smile and say “OK. I’ll remember.”
He moves out in a month. I’ll be sad to see him go.
