When we were first married, DH asked me to honor his "first rule of living."
He was referring to having people over. Or going out. Never presume to invite people over without checking with him, first. Never commit him to going out without checking with him, first.
Seems like just good manners to me, although - looking back - I have to say our social life was pretty restricted because of the First Rule.
Now, however, he has connected with some new friends, mostly emancipated foster youth that he works with. I've come home on several Fridays after a long week of teaching middle school to a house full of -surprise!- teenagers.
Today's surprise is that one of these young people has been informed by her landlord that she has to get rid of her dog. She's moving to a new place in two weeks, but does DH know of anyone who could keep the dog for her for two weeks?
He presumed to commit to keeping the beast here.
Where I'm in the process of planting $200 worth of flowers for DIL's mother's visit.
Where we are still in chaos from the bathroom and mbr rennovation.
Where my stitchery and quilt projects are here and there in their totes all over the family room.
He assures me the animal will be either with him or out in the kennel (left over from our Akita who's been gone five years now.)
OK honey, you take care of it. It stays with you.
It's a little yippy dog.
It is barking.
Have fun, dear.