Wife swap...

I woke up to the smell of freshly brewed coffee.

I enjoyed sipping it, in peace, whilst I checked the news and my email.

Heading for the shower, I stretched and kissed my gorgeous, newly woken, children as they greeted me.

With the bathroom door firmly closed, I relished a long hot shower in peace.

As I dressed, selecting crisply ironed work clothes, I realised my lovely husband had already made the bed.

As I put my make up on, without children bothering me, without attempting to apply it in traffic, my only disturbance is my husband asking me if I'd like him to make me a salad to take to work for lunch.

Grabbing a matching bag and shoes, and my car keys, I kiss my children and husband goodbye for the day. They are still in their jammies, hair not yet brushed. I have no idea if the kids have clean school uniform for the day or not. I presume they do?

Similarly, I have no idea is the dishwasher was set to run, or if the kids beds are made, or if a load of laundry has been hung out to dry. None of those domestic chores are my issue.

I am busy at work, all day. But I am not distracted by phone calls from school requesting me to pick up sick children.

I come home from the office when, and only when, my key tasks for day are done. I am not tethered by my watch.

It's late. The kids are already bathed and in their jammies. They have eaten dinner. The youngest is waiting for me to read her a story, whilst the elder two are with Daddy, finishing their homework.

They fall upon me and shower me with kisses and news of their day. Happy, clean children. Untainted by my nagging.

After getting changed into clean trackies, I tuck them into bed and catch up on their goings on.

Eventually I curl up on the couch with a glass of wine, poured by my husband. He cooks me dinner as I blog a little and catch up on emails. I think he may do some other chores too. Another load of laundry? Take some meat out for tomorrows dinner? Some ironing? Dealing with the dishwasher again perhaps? I am not sure.

We watch some TV together and then to bed. I sleep like a log. No worries. Tomorrow is another day. Another convenient day whilst I work and do my thing,  and the rest of my life just gets organised and taken care of around me.

Truth, fiction or fantasy?