Father's Day Gift

     I would like to think I wouldn't nag my husband on Father's Day. But just in case, the powers that be have made it impossible for me to do so by taking away my voice.  An unexpected Father's Day Gift for my beloved husband, the father of my children.  I knew it was about to happen so at 11:15 last night, with my voice starting as a barely audible sleep and tapering off into a faint whisper, I listed as much of his honey-do list as I could muster.  It wasn't Father's Day yet so it's okay.  And now it hurts to talk so when I asked him on his special day to get Joshua dressed, it physically hurt me to do so and asking him to get me the air pump for the slip and slide was also a strain.
     I don't think I'm too much of a nag but I certainly do ask him to do a lot.  On a positive note, it's not as though I'm sitting on the couch while asking him.  Even though I'm officially sick (or allergenic?) today I still have made breakfast, emptied and loaded the dishwasher, swept the deck from those pesky helicopter thingies, gone grocery shopping, changed poopy diapers and tended to the children dutifully.  And out of all of the grand scheme of things, he does way more than I venture to nag him about.  Yesterday with no prompting whatsoever he put the edging on my garden and he mowed the lawn today (yes, on Father's Day but it was totally his own idea).
     No matter how much we each do, no matter how well our team works, there's always just more on the list than either of us could possibly do (and we refuse to hire out).  So even though we're doing the laundry, paying bills (usually), mowing the lawn, changing the children, etc... it just still seems like a lot is left undone.  Like the paint chipping on our sidewalk and the garage decaying before our very eyes for lack of paint, the awning of the playground ripped and flapping in the breeze waiting for its new roof, the car windshield cracked by a hailstone, the garbage stinking up the kitchen even though guests are arriving and (most emotional for me) my goose (or duck?) still unglued from it's foot with a hole in its belly in the downstairs bathroom.  Oh no!  I just inadvertently nagged my husband.  Even without a voice, my nagging is out of control!
     Hmmm... I think on Monday I'll call the insurance company about that crack in my windshield myself.  If I get my voice back.