After Amelia Lamont’s post calling out her fiancé for needing to give her a little more recognition went viral, he replied in the best possible way. Check out their cute (and all-too-relatable) interaction below:
Dear darling fiancé,
I love you (I wear your undies to bed — say no more) but lately you have forgotten who I am and what I do. I am your partner of 12 years, your confidant, best friend & most importantly the mother of your children. But more recently, without you saying it, I can tell I’m just the baby bum wiper, the mundane defacto roomie & the worn out wash cloth that desperately needs a revamp…I hear you loud and clear – no one deserves a whole 6 hours at a day spa more then us mom’s, but really, you need some aftershave because your attitude, or lack of, stinks.
You walk in the door after a 12 hour work day, worn out, weary & tired. You eat your dinner in peace, pat yourself with your fluffy towel that I dried and slip so quietly into bed with the comfort of your fresh new sheets that I washed, annoyingly dried and frustratingly applied to the king bed just a few hours prior. You awoke in the morning, gave a good stretch, kissed my forehead and showered and got dressed ready to face the day ahead. You wore your new shorts I bought you that were a nightmare to purchase with 2 kids in tow, but I did it anyway because I know you needed them and would appreciate them.
I love you and that’s why I give myself so selflessly, day in day out, but my God where is the recognition? Beautiful dinner babe. Nice hair, hun. I see you have gone back blonde. Thanks for getting the stain out of my white t-shirt. These new flannelette sheets are heaven. Hey, thanks for getting these shorts. Nope – none of it. Not one thanks given or appreciation shown. No recognition today, yesterday or probably tomorrow until you read this.
You work so hard. I work hard too. I dare say harder then you. I don’t enjoy housework but I do it. I loathe mundane cooking these days but it keeps us well and going. I can’t possibly scrape any more skiddies out of undies, but I do it because that’s toilet training. I feel like I am the queen of Groundhog Day, but although not joyous all the time, I do it, but please, to save the dragon from spitting fire, pretend you loved dinner. Thank me for keeping the kids alive and doing the dreaded dinner, bath, bed solo. Because that’s all we want. That’s all I want. Recognition