TEAMWORK

Friday evening, friends called and said they had tickets to a concert and would we like to go?

Is grass green? Of course, we said. We'd love to go.

We'll pick you up in exactly one hour, they told us.

Milton hung up the phone. "What about supper?"

I thought for a moment. He knew I'd planned to cook a big pot of chili that evening. But how could I do that and get ready? "Tell you what," I said. "You come in the kitchen and help, and I'll cook us some chili in no time flat."

We practically ran to the kitchen. I threw the ground beef and frozen chopped onions into the pot, and he opened cans. Within minutes, the beef and onions were browned. I drained them, then poured the cans of tomato sauce, diced tomatoes, and chili beans into the pot plus chili seasonings. I glanced at the clock. In seven minutes, we'd made a pot of chili. A few more minutes of heating it till it was good and hot, and we were sitting at the table eating, a dollop of sour cream and grated cheese atop our bowls. We cleaned everything up, and I still had 32 minutes to get ready. Not bad.

Teamwork.

Now, if he'd just do that every evening!

Oops. That's not the point of my post.

The point is, he does help me with things around the house. And he's the best grandfather there ever was. He and the little ones have day-long dates at the zoo while the girls and I shop or eat out together. It didn't used to be that way, the help around the house, and the help with childcare when our girls were small. But things have changed the longer we've been married, so take heart if you're wishing your spouse would do so and so or this and that.

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"Let's get together,

Yeh, yeh, yeh,

Why don't you and me combine?

Let's get together,

Yeh, yeh, yeh,

We'll have a real good time."

That's a song in an old movie starring Hayley Mills.

Togetherness.

Teamwork.

Yeh, yeh.