I first got the idea to hang a chalkboard in our kitchen from Holly at Nothing But Bonfires. I thought her note to her boyfriend was so charming, and I envisioned leaving Mike little love notes in the morning, before leaving for work and before he had gotten up yet. I also envisioned returning home from a long day of work and commuting to find notes to me in return (because I apparently forgot who I was married to).
I found a chalkboard at IKEA (through the help of a reader) for $14.99. A co-worker was planning a trip there, and she picked this up for me as a housewarming gift. As cheap as the chalkboard was, I got it for free. I'm already in love with IKEA and I've never actually set foot inside one.
Anyway, Mike put it together the same night he cooked dinner which is totally enough for me, I swear, but when I saw him writing on it from the living room, I began smirking. First love note!
When I walked into the kitchen to do the dishes—do you have a similar system? When one cooks, the other cleans? We had this system for years and years when I did very little cooking, but when I began cooking more regularly about a year ago, Mike mysteriously forgot about this system. I found myself more often than not slaving over the stove and then slaving over the sink because his day was so hard and Mythbusters is new tonight and look how Molly is lying on top of me, do you want to be the mother who makes her move? But, over the last few weeks Mike has picked up cooking again (and has made a few delicious grilled chicken dishes) and—wouldn't you know!—the system has been reinstated—I saw the note he wrote on the chalkboard. The first note on our chalkboard reads:
MIKE ROCKS!
Mike tells me all the time that I build things up in my head, and that's why I'm sometimes disappointed. It's why I was kind of bummed by The Break-Up—I had a countdown to its release!—and why we also got into a huge fight this past Valentine's Day because WHERE WERE MY DIAMOND EARRINGS? This is just a massage; massages don't sparkle! When I waltzed into the kitchen expecting to see Mike declaring his undying love for me in white chalk, I laughed to myself, realizing I was doing it again: building things up instead of appreciating them for what they are.
So here it is Internet: I appreciate that I'm basically married to a fourteen-year-old.