I have crossed into an alternate universe this weekend.
I don't know how I got here, but I know I never want to leave.
You see, as I sit here blogging, DH is scrubbing the kitchen floor!
I know! It's like...so weird. He's been on a bender all weekend - it started with a trip to Home Depot on Friday night. He came home with a can of paint and roller covers and plastic drop cloths. He proceeded to clean the stove and the microwave, then yesterday morning he painted the ceilings in the bathroom, the hallway and the kitchen.
Now, for some of you, this might seem commonplace. The husband doing chores and home-fix-ups on the weekend is practically an American institution, but in my house my husband touts himself as the 'Anti-Bob Vila'. He is not a do-it-yourselfer by any means, unless he's fixing a computer.
As he was soaking the knobs from the stove and polishing my vegetable plaques from the kitchen wall, I asked what got into him...well it was more like: "Which alien took over your body?"
He told me it was Gordon Ramsay, the F-word chef. Ever since we got BBC America he's been glued to Hell's Kitchen, Kitchen Nightmares and the F-Word. He can't get enough of Chef Ramsay's explitive laced tough-love and he's suddenly realized that cleanliness is next to impossible in a home with two cats, two kids and a large dog.
I've been trying to help by staying out of his way.
I don't know how long this trip to Bizarro land will last, but I plan to enjoy every minute of it. I'm off now to write a thank you to Chef Ramsay and invite him over for dinner.