My husband left his shoes in the middle of the living room floor.

I saw them last night—they are hard to miss. He’s a tall guy and he wears big shoes.

So, instead of tripping over them, I picked them up and placed them into our closet.

I didn’t grumble.

I didn’t get mad.

I didn’t even say a word.

I know you might be thinking…

“Really, Leslie? He’s a 40-year-old man, he can pick up his own dang shoes.”

And you’re right. He can.

But I’m a 40-year-old woman and I can clean the trash out of my car and change the oil and I know I’m capable of helping my kids with their homework, but sometimes—I don’t do it.

But my husband does.

In fact, there’s a lot of things I don’t do that he does.

And there’s a lot of things I do, that he doesn’t.

We’ve learned after nearly 18 years of marriage, there’s just no reason to keep score.

We let go of the little things and work together on the big ones. We’re just two imperfect humans who love each other a lot and decided many years ago to be on the same team.

And to pick up the slack (and the shoes) when necessary.