This was a statement I always thought I would LOVE to be able to say. And, I still am, sorta, loving saying that...it's nice that he's here to have lunch with Littleboy whenever he wants, or sleep until 9, if he had a rough night. I think it is truly a blessing that he isn't nearly as stressed as he was when he was putting in 75-80 hours a week, making someone else wealthy.
That being said, I think we might kill each other.
My husband is a very, very intelligent man. He can tell you mathematical things about holding up the roof of a house that many people, aside from structural engineers, don't take into consideration. He has a memory that is more than a "steel trap", the ability to recall what day he sent which email, regarding which house, on which lot, and exactly (word for word) what he said and all the people he said it to. I honestly have never seen anything like it.
He can have someone say "I need a house that has this, this, and this...but not this, and DEFINITELY not this." And in 24 hours, create this house out of thin air. He's a Michelangelo of design work.
Am I impressed by him? Yes, on a daily basis.
Do I like working for him? No friggin' way.
My husband's shortfall, if I may call it that, is his inability to understand that we all don't think like he does. I don't know how to set up Excel files (gasp!! I know, I know.). I don't know how to link his phone to his website, to his email, to the "fax to your email" company, to the hosting site, to the sushi bar...or whatever.
I can, however, tell you when the electric bill is due, what Littleboy's favorite sandwich is, and what setting to use to get stains out of Middleboy's crew clothes.
So, it's going to be an interesting ride, working at home with Hubby. I'm sure this isn't the last you'll hear about it. I love that man so much...I certainly hope I don't have to bury him in the backyard.