The spray bottle squeaks out a few more splurts of all-purpose cleaner onto the kitchen counter. Just another thing for the monumental list of tasks you’ve acquired today. Taking a few paper towels, you scrub the quartz as if it personally victimised your entire family. There’s no laundry detergent either, not after all the bedding loads this morning. Did you turn on the dishwasher? It was loaded and you remember adding the tablet but there’s no tell-tale whirling nor incessant gurgling filling the room.
“Shoot, shoot, shoot!” you grumble, turning on your heels.
Steam escapes the machine’s vents – the drying cycle. One less thing to worry about. Though you didn’t have quite enough space to include the juice pitcher, for which you need to buy a few more instant tea packs. There’s a shopping list for all this, a simple way to give your mind a break, but then there’s also the counter. The spray is oh-so-patiently waiting to be wiped down.
On autopilot your feet carry you to the fridge and the scrambled list clipped to it. In a scrawl near illegible you add what you remember: detergent, carpet cleaner, oh!, regular cleaner too, toothpaste, and…
What was the other thing?
“Honey,” Yunho calls, his voice breaking through the muck and mire of your overactive brain. His arm wraps around your waist as he presses a soft kiss to your temple. “Are you okay?”
With a clap you add ‘tea’ to the list. “Ah, you’re a lifesaver!”
He snorts. “I don’t know what I did but I’m happy to be of service.”
Slipping free of his embrace you return to the counter and the war you’re waging against it. After a solid minute it sparkles. Most of the kitchen does by this time of day, though it never lasts long. Dinner is right around the corner so the dishes will inevitably pile back up, and wouldn’t it be nice to bake some cookies for dessert? If only there was some–
“My little hummingbird”—large hands clasp yours, holding you in place before you can flit away once more—“let me take care of it.”
“Oh, it’s fine, really. Now for dinner I was thinking–”
“I’ll take care of it,” he insists, gently pulling you to his chest. Once more his arms wrap around your frame. Warmth encases you as he rocks you back and forth. The buzz slows and dulls, allowing a sense of serenity to wash through you. “I’ll take care of you.”