I have high expectations of my mate.
I expect that he never even look at another woman lustfully (but God himself decreed this so it must be possible -- St. Matthew 5:27; at least with His help).
I expect him to provide a living within his abilities: food, clothes, shelter, warmth and transportation.
I expect him to play with our babies happily & to help out with their needs (ie: bathing, diaper changes, nighttime rocking).
I expect him to be kind and loving to me & to make me feel safe just by being around.
And he does. He does all these things so seamlessly that sometimes I forget they take effort. Every once in a while I imagine my life without these pillars he provides and I shudder at the desolation.
So this is why I've chosen to ignore the fact that he's about as housebroken as a puppy dog. His continuous ability to live in his own filth amazes me. Sometime after we had kids I accepted this fact. I don't like it. I never will. But I choose to accept it.
But what does this acceptance look like? It means picking up his socks & washing them & putting them away (happily). It means cooking, cleaning & loading & unloading the dishwasher every single day. I don't get thanked often enough (who does?) but then again I don't do cartwheels every time his paycheck arrives either.
Does he take me for granted? Definitely. But don't I do the same in turn. Should we remind one another at times of our labors? Sure. When done in true charity, it never hurts.
But at the end of the day, I'm a lot happier expecting the only domestic help from my spouse in the form of a flushed toilet (the seat down is always nice as well). He complies every time and I am so proud.