Fried

I am so tired tonight I can barely focus my brain. When I got home from class at 9:00 p.m., I found Roger making our bed with the clean sheets I'd left in the drier. He's always doing thoughtful things like that.

When I was a teenager, I remember coming home late one night, and while I was dragging myself up the stairs, I realized with much regret that I hadn't made up my bed. When I opened the door to my room, I discovered that while I was gone, my mom had found my sheets and made my bed for me. To this day I am grateful to her for that.

I believe I have hit upon one of my love languages. And now to lay my head on my freshly laundered pillow . . .