* Wednesday was seven years since Christopher and I met. We’ve been married a little over 6 years so if you do the math we pretty much got married three minutes after meeting. I had a physical in the afternoon so we commemorated the day by high-fiving as we met in the OBGYN waiting room to do a child hand over.
I am not a fan of my annual physical. I don’t like wearing the paper gown. I don’t like being surrounded by posters of the female reproductive system. I don’t like being reminded that my extra pounds can’t really be called “baby weight” anymore. I hate the required exam of the neither regions. I tell myself she’s seen hundreds of people and for a while it helped, then I realized the problem with that logic is I don’t show hundreds of people. I just lay there and hope for the best. The doctor is friendly but it’s weird when she’s telling me about how her 13yo twins almost burned down her house while going about her business. Does it have to be social hour?
I ran into Tuesday Morning after my appointment to congratulate myself for making it through another appointment. I had to cut my shopping short because Christopher called and said he had to go back into work. He more than made up for my canceled shopping trip with the following texts.
I’ll keep him around for a few more years.
* Just when our yard had finally recovered from the patio fiasco, Mr Jim decided to have a new roof put on. They come at 7:30am and cause a ruckus until 6:30pm. The pounding never stops. The dishes shake in the cupboard. My poor garden has almost been squashed beyond repair.
Our kitchen is little and there’s no practical place for the trash can so we have it in the garage. I opened the door between the kitchen and the garage to throw something away and shingles came crashing down in front of my face. I looked up and saw the sky through what used to be the garage roof. The floor was covered in shingles, dirt and screws. I’m so shy I didn’t want to face the 8 guys about it but I didn’t want to clean up the mess myself. Then I saw our fake Christmas tree getting covered in dirt. That was too much. A line was crossed. I told myself they’re providing a service and I’m the customer they need to keep happy. They don’t need to know Mr. Jim signed the check and not me. I finally got the attention of Jorge (not his actual name) and apologized for bothering him, but if it wasn’t too much…I mean, if he get a chance…would he mind finding a tarp for the garage? All our stuff is getting dirty. Again, I’M SO SORRY TO BOTHER YOU. Jorge looked momentarily startled (English might not be his first language) but he paused the whole roof production to look for a tarp. Between you and I, I think they were hoping I wouldn’t notice the mess. As if I wouldn’t notice a Christmas tree in danger!
I’m so sorry. I just told you the most boring, anti climactic story in the history of the internet.
* I took Sesame to the playground to escape the banging. Someone tell me where my baby went! Who’s this kid with long legs?
* I don’t mean to brag (or maybe I do), but for 45 minutes every single piece of laundry in my house was either on us or clean and put away. ALL OF IT. This morning I deep cleaned the refrigerator so feel free to call me Martha Stewart and mail me a Wife of the Year award. Or reward me with French fries.
I love that Christopher brought you French fries!!!! How sweet!
French fries are always an acceptable reward for dealing with an annual exam!
Christopher brought you Applebee's french fries? You have a keeper for sure! Also, your poor garden!!!
My dream is having all the laundry done at once