That Hour

There is this hour immediately before Big Strong Man is due home during which my radar goes off.
Is the house clean(ish)?
Have I showered...
What does my hair look like...
Are there dishes in the sink...
laundry in need of folding...
kids who haven't yet eaten...
are we all still in our pajamas?

A few days ago, I was inspired to do something about this.

No, the house will not be immaculate- it will not-, but if I take the time to do the morning dishes, then doing the evening dishes is not so overwhelming. This makes sense.
Also, Big Strong Man isn't faced with that unsightly scene upon returning home.
...likewise, my hair. It needs tamed PRIOR to his arrival.

Because,
well,
I want to do better for him. 
 
He farts -loud, disgusting farts- in my presence, and I wish he would control what he shares with me (you know, try to impress me once again).
So this leave me.
I have my end of our marriage agreement to live up to.

We married for better or worse, but I do think that we still need to try.
To show our love for one another in particular ways,..

Not that he ever says anything about the dishes...or my hair. But, come on.

So there it is, that hour before he is due home and I am doing dishes and folding shirts and curling my hair.
I thought I was doing it for him.
Guess what?
Turns out, I enjoy that hour.
I enjoy seeing things completed.  I also enjoy feeling attractive -and the difference between the greasy bun and the pretty curls is morale boasting!

Do you have an particular reason which motivates you?