I heart my husband.

I am not an easy person. I'd like to be, but I am just not. I am kind of a bulldozer. When I am on a mission, get outta my way, or you're going down!

Recently there has been some upheaval in Chez Murphy. My brother has not been feeling well, and so for a bit, he's living with us. He's been with us since Friday.

My brother is a lot like me in some ways. He's not an easy person. I love him, but he can be tough to deal with...Interacting with him is kind of like walking a tightrope, and us bulldozers aren't real graceful.

Since last week, pretty much 99% of my mind is occupied with thoughts of my brother and how to best help him. I feel powerless. So, I call Tim yesterday, give him the latest update on little bro, and launch into how "I REALLY NEED SOME HELP". Ya know...with the small stuff...trash, toilet bowl cleaning, vacuuming, etc. The stuff that can send you over the cliff when you are tottering on the edge.

Tim could have pointed out how he does his fair share of the housework. He could have pointed out that I, myself, am no domestic diva. He could have pointed out that I tend to agonize and get frustrated over things that I can't change, especially when it comes to little bro. All of those responses would have been reasonable. But guess what? He didn't do any of that.

He said "OK. I get it." And because he said that, I could joke about how I ought to come with an advisory warning system similar to the one Homeland Security has for terrorism. Red Alert! Severe Risk! Tammy may whack out at any moment!

I heart my husband.