I Can’t Help It

Price walked in the door, another long day behind him, or so he thought.

You were asleep on the couch, still in your jammies from yesterday…you clearly called in sick… again.

You were laying among pile of clean laundry that you didn’t even have the energy to fold and put away.

Price went into the kitchen, angrily throwing his rucksack down next to the table, seeing the sink still full of dirty dishes from two days ago that you promised you would take care of today while he was at work.

Price puts his hands down on the counter and lets out a deep sigh, reaching over and turning on the water, rinsing the dishes and loading the dishwasher. He sees you standing by the table, tears in your eyes.

“I’m sorry…I can’t help it” you tearfully explain… “I know love” Price whispers, as he loads the dishwasher.

“Go and take a shower and put some clean clothes on and I will be in when I’m done with the dishes” Price tells you. “But we need to talk, it might be time for the doctor to adjust your medication” he adds.