My husband is always careful to lavish praise on me whenever I help him with a chore around our farm. “You are one in a million!” he will rave if I assist the veterinarian on a day when he can’t be home. “I picked a peach when I picked you,” he coos as I hold up boards or wire while he repairs fence. “A guy’s lucky to have a gal like you,” I’ll hear, sweat dripping down my face, as we drive back after pulling the truck or some machine out of a ditch. “Super job, babe! Great work!”
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