When men vacuum, it's sexy.

There are times that I like to feel needed, aside from being held onto for dear life by the baby.

I like my little toilet paper battled with Dave. I'll use the last of it and set the new roll on top just to see if he'll replace it. He'll then use the end of that roll and place another new one on top of the first old one and beside the second. It's a domestic game of chicken, and one that I thoroughly enjoy. I'm also convinced that he puts the toilet paper going UNDER just to watch me grind my teeth. The toilet paper goes OVER, my dear.

I sometimes like finding things left undone around the house. When I complete those tasks I feel accomplished and like I did something that wouldn't have gotten done otherwise. Sometimes that may be true, but sometimes I like to think that people left those tasks for me because they need my help.

Then there's vacuuming.

Mind you, I don't mind vacuuming. In fact, sometimes I enjoy it. It's the perfect OCD task. However, what I really enjoy is watching my husband vacuum. I'm not quite sure why. I find it sexy. I like knowing that I'm not the only one who can and will complete that task. Dave could do the dishes, and that's ok. He can fold laundry and I appreciate it. But when that man vacuums, look out world! Meow!

Not ALL men who vacuum are sexy, mind you. I adore Andy Richter with everything I have, but I don't care to see him pushing a Dirt Devil around my living room.

I am appreciative of my family by, like, a lot. They let me know I'm needed in so many ways, and let me know I'm appreciated in so many others.

There's my Saturday post. :)