Greg and I were in Illinois over the weekend, and Abe and Winston stayed at the kennel, although it’s actually called a pet resort. That’s right. They are completely spoiled.

I brought them home this morning and got ready for work. I gathered my purse and keys and walked to the door that leads into the garage. Usually, Abe tries to leave when I do, but he seemed tired, and hung back in the living room. Winston, however, charged to the door.

Winston is scared to death of the sound of the garage opening. It makes his hair stand on end. Furthermore, when Winston is in the car he lets loose a miserable opera of howls. But despite having arrived home just 30 minutes earlier, he seemed eager to once again brave both the garage door and the car so that he could head to the office with me. It was the greatest act of devotion he has ever displayed.

I have found Winston’s long lost brother.

I like to make lists, and I usually like to stay busy on weekends. Greg, however, wants to spend 48 hours laying on the couch watching movies and maybe get up once or twice to visit the fridge. He believes weekends are strictly for relaxing. It drives him crazy that I want to waste my weekends doing laundry or vacuuming or making dinner from scratch. Even worse, I want him to help with these tasks.

On weekends, we often walk Abe in the morning. I used to use this time to talk with Greg about how we would spend our free day. But every time I would ask, “What do you want to do today?” Greg would scowl. He didn’t want plans. He wanted to be spontaneous. He would spontaneously lay on the couch and watch a movie. Every weekend.

So I was a bit surprised when we took Abe for a walk Sunday morning and Greg asked, “What do you want to do today?” I must have looked at him as if he had just asked me to jump out of a plane.

“Well, I have a few errands to run,” I said. “I need to go to Petsmart and stop at Target to pick up a few things, but you don’t have to go.” I wanted to make sure Greg understood that he had no obligations. “What do you want to do?” I asked timidly.

“I was thinking I would go to Home Depot and get the stone so we can build the retaining wall in our front yard and get some stain for our fence and get some paint for whatever rooms you want to paint,” he said.

“You want to do all of that today?” I asked. I wondered if maybe Greg was planning on leaving me. Out of guilt, he was finally going to finish all those tasks I had pestered him about. Then, he would sneak off in the middle of the night, never to contact me again.

But Greg wouldn’t leave me.

“Is all this because your dad is coming to visit?” I asked.

“No, I just want to get some stuff done,” Greg replied casually. But I think he lied. See, on Saturday, Dave (Greg’s dad) said he was planning on visiting in a few weeks because he has some work down here. And now, after months of begging Greg to stain our fence, it has been stained. And after months of talking about painting, we have buckets of Scotland Road green sitting in our bathroom.

How is it that Greg’s parents have so much more sway over him than his wife? I need to learn their secret. Or maybe not. Dave, could you please tell Greg to mop the kitchen floor? Thanks!