Ode to my Husband after the Third Coat

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
Your arms can reach, when painting beyond my sight
With perfect strokes, you are not fazed.
I love thee to the level of every powder room’s

Most quiet need, streak-free paint.
I love thee freely, as the splotchy makes me pout
I love thee purely, because you don’t freak out.
I love thee with a passion put to use
In my neurotic grief, and with my home improvement faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
When I did the first coat, --- I love thee with the quiet hum
of the powder room fan --- and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better when the bathroom’s done.