The Man with a (Midnight) Plan

It's that perfect time in the evening. The children are in bed. Prayers have been offered up. Contact lenses are out. Hair bonnet is securely on. My cell phone is charging. I’m about to scroll Facebook until I’m sleepy.

 

I go to the boys’ rooms to turn out their lamps and shut the doors. When I return, my bedroom has morphed into a construction site. There are paint supplies, tarps, ladders and lighting. My husband stands there with sandpaper in his hand and a smirk he offers with a mischievous side eye.


“Honey are you OK? Do you need help?”

 

“I’m good.”

 

Yes. It’s 11 p.m. on a Thursday night and my husband has started A Project.

 

We’ve been married for 11 years now so I already know the rules of A Project. Stay out of the way. Don’t ask too many questions. Observe but don’t supervise. Offer help. Bring water.

 

One of the personality traits I love about my husband is that once he sets his mind to something, he gets it done. There’s no stopping him. He’ll lose sleep over it until it’s finished. This means things don’t stay broken in my house for long. The garage stays clean. I can’t remember the last time I touched his laundry. And if he’s in a mood for fish and rice at midnight, then by golly the whole house will smell it.

 

This particular Project is to fill and sand the nail holes in our bedroom walls so he can paint. We moved in here less than six months ago so there are improvement opportunities galore. His hard work has transformed our home into a thing of beauty.

 

This works in my favor most of the time. That time I watched Hunger Games 1 & 2 via On Demand and I just absolutely needed to see 3 & 4 immediately, he went to Redbox late at night to snag them for me. When I was pregnant, if I needed something I never had to ask twice. For my sister’s wedding, my son’s dress pants were 6 inches too long and since I was off with the wedding party and he was charge of the kids, this man hemmed up this boy’s pants like a professional seamstress.

 

He knows how to do everything. Seriously. Everything.

 

But sometimes, that means sanding nail holes at 11:30 p.m. Or vacuuming when everyone is asleep. Or sleeping in the guest room like I did last night until he could put our bed back together. I’m guesstimating that happened around 3 a.m.

 

I’m not sure when this man sleeps is what I’m saying.

 

This is definitely a blackmail photo of me if I’ve ever seen one, but I just had to show you what my real life is like, because you wouldn’t believe me otherwise.

 

My mama always said “Find yourself a man who can do more than one thing.” I overachieved and found one who could do it all.

 

Do you have midnight stories to tell?