It's Not Right but It's Okay

Sometimes I think, "Okay. Tonight's the night I have to act like I was before we had kids because I know he misses that girl." 

Guilt over the tired, old woman I've become chokes me. 

But...

Then I see the dishes he left in the sink, dishes that held food I cooked from scratch while he relaxed in the recliner.

Dishes he dropped off on his way to bed. 

Dishes I have to rinse and load into the dishwasher after I pack lunches and supervise kiddie bedtime and vacuum the floor for the second time in 12 hours. 

Then I think, "Nah. I'm good." 

And I climb into bed, conscience clear, and fall asleep before my head hits the pillow.