I cleaned my hubby’s shoes today
Wrought with mud and dirt and filth
And while I cleaned and scrubbed and scraped
I thought of all my wealth.
He’s always on the go – and though
He tracks mud from outside in
I’m not ashamed to own his name
Or claim that I am his.
Now, I could fuss and fret and stew –
Demand he takes off his shoes
Whenever he enters in the house
(to save work for me to do.)
But I choose instead to wipe the marks
Left by his work-worn feet;
Pick up the grime, sweep off the dirt
It’s my pleasure – and it is sweet.
One day those feet will work no more –
(I might not miss the dirt!)
But I will miss what it will mean
When my man is no longer at work.
And though the dirt can be a pain,
Yep! I grimace with distain
At what is etched on those muddy shoes
From plumbing and sewage stains!
Now, you might not agree with me
Your standards don’t have to be mine
Yet this is how I choose to live
With the man that I call mine.
He gives, and gives, and gives some more
That for me to take the time
To clean his shoes from all the dirt
Says, “I’m so glad you’re mine.”
I used to fret and fuss and stew
At the extra work it caused
Until I thought how life could be –
Then I changed my cleaning “laws”.
So when I’m scraping and washing,
Using tools of many kinds,
I’m simply saying, “I love you,
and I’m so glad you’re mine.”
I’m blessed beyond all measure,
I’ve a wealth that cannot be bought
Because the giant man who wears these shoes
Loves me with all his heart.