Two paint-stained sawhorses were set up in the yard. A dusty circular saw still attached to a twisted, orange industrial power cord sat cooling on one of the horses. Several panels of bare siding laid out in the driveway on flattened cardboard boxes were waiting for their first coat of white primer.
He knelt in her flower bed next to the house, a pencil tucked behind his ear, meticulously measuring a lay line for the next board. Amused, she stood to one side waiting for directives.
“It’s your wifely duty to serve me,” he grumbled.
She giggled. “You said, ‘doodie’.”