A few weeks/a month or so ago, I saw this online:
I loved it. I coveted it. I showed the picture to my husband. I said, "Look, isn't this amazing? I could really use something like that."
We don't have much of a pantry, so our canned goods end up ... well, all over the kitchen and laundry room.
Zak looked at the image briefly, answered in the affirmative that it was, in fact, cool. Then, he made me one. A better one. A more beautiful one. A perfect one.
My perfect sliding pantry:
It takes up almost no space.
It just slips into the five inches beside the fridge
that we were previously wasting.
All the 'foods' in their places:
Demonstrating the genius of it:
Rolling on its smooth rollers, the magic pantry APPEARS:
I mean, really. Who does that?
My awesome husband does. That's who.
Knowing that he was willing to take time out of his lunch hour,
to stay late after hours at work, to come in early to work,
in order that he could get this made for me,
knowing I would looove it,
just blows me away.
It is now a daily reminder that I am loved.
Every time I go to eat (which is more often than I'd like to admit)
Every time I go to get a cup of coffee
(or to make the second of my three daily pots)
I see it and I think, there is no way I deserve that.
But he made it anyway, because he loves me.
I'm riddled with flaws, irritating habits, stressful mood swings, immature antics--
But still he loves me,
despite,
and because of,
those things.
Yet another reason why I'm the luckiest wife
in the world.
