The Househusband's Day Off [RRFB]

*Stretch* *Yawn*

Good morning, fersons! In our home, Saturday is Husband's Day, so he can do whatever he wants, and I'll just say "YES" to everything he says—don't believe this, this is just a hoax. Today is his holiday/day off for getting up early and preparing everything for me from Monday to Friday. Because I don't have work today, I'll be the one to pamper and look after him.

Being in a relationship requires both giving and taking. It is not possible to carry everything on one's own shoulder; everything must be worked out collaboratively.

I get out of bed, put on my fluffy periwinkle-colored koala slippers, and go straight to the bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth after gently kissing him on the lips and forehead to avoid waking him up because it's still early.

While combing my short hair in the mirror, I noticed that I was wearing my husband's white long sleeves and a boyleg underneath. I look like a cross between a sexy model and a comfy homeless lady, but I leave it that way. Lol.

Our bedroom is just a few steps away from our tiny but versatile, neat, and stylish kitchen. The color scheme was all white and wood. I used the ceramic white pan to make his favorite breakfast of pancakes, tocino, and hotdogs. In addition to the leftover rice from yesterday, I added some garlic to the pan. And for our beverage, I'll make a latte and a coffee art with whole milk. Voilà! Scrumptious breakfast with an aesthetic value.

I feed our furbabies, vacuumed the floor, carpets, and dust off the shelves while brewing the espresso from 195 °F to 205 °F. When I'm finished cleaning, the espresso is also finished brewing. That is the best part of living in a tiny house. Everything can be cleaned in just 7 minutes.

When I'm finished with everything, I wake up my loving husband with hugs and kisses all over his face. He finally got up after so much convincing and negotiating. I was fluffing the pillows and making our bed while he went to the bathroom to do his business. I picked up our laundry basket and gathered all of the clothes from the floor as if something big had happened the night before.

He's done. We walked into the kitchen, and he pulled out a chair for me to sit in, as he always does; it's his thing, and you can't take it away from him. He sat and lifted the cover of the dishes I had prepared, and his face lit up like a child unwrapping a birthday present, that made me the happiest. And we ate it right away before it went cold.

"Now, what are we going to do next, hun?" he queried as he sipped his aesthetically pleasing swan-designed coffee.

"Hmm, I think we're going somewhere expensive," I winked.

We washed the dishes, showered, and got the keys so I could drive, which he kindly allowed. I stopped at a gas station to fuel up our baby Spresso, and then we went to one of our favorite bonding spots and "battlefields" or "courthouse" the grocery store, because we were constantly debating whether or not the item we were about to purchase was necessary.

I have to justify each item I'm about to put in the cart to my husband in order for it to arrive safely at the payment counter. That's a bit easier because I have a plethora of mostly effective tactics at my fingertips. The puppy look is always the winning card. He can't resist it. Hihi.

"Not the soda, it's not good for you," he says as he pushes the cart away from the cold beverages section.

"Dada, pwease. Just one two-liter bottle. It'll last a week, I promise," I begged, my puppy eyes shining.

"Nah-uh." he sneered. "You can't fool me, lady."

"Hmm, on second thought, let's not buy this one. Maybe you're willing to spend more money for hospital bills like a THOUSAND DOLLARS when I had a hypoglycemic or when I had seizures and brain damage due to severe low blood sugar, or worse, you'll become a widow than paying for a $3 bottle of soda," I asserted.

"Ugh. Fine," he sighs, grabbing a bottle of soda.

"Works every time," I murmured, smirking.

He's in charge and very strict about budgeting our money, making sure that every penny we earn doesn't go to waste, but he breaks his rules for my teeny-tiny happiness.

He's impatient and fiery in many ways, but for me, he can adjust just to take care of and protect not only my physique but also my feelings. I love my husband and wouldn't trade the love he has given me for anything in this world. Hihi.

Yellow! 💛

Just a quick write-up today because I can't think of anything to write about because the bebuu is in every corner of my mind. Hihi

Have a wonderful day! Santé!