Live from the Pokey
January 18, 2011 § 2 Comments
Oh Universe, you’re an absolute laugh riot. Today marks the return to life as we know it, didn’t you get the e-mail? Of course you did. You’re just enjoying this little game called “Let’s screw with Amy.” Can’t you just watch Modern Family or something? Sofia Vergara has a WAY better rack anyway.
The wouldgies have returned to school, and I’m ready to get back in the swing of things. (Translation–waistbands, concealor and children that don’t look parent-less). My bum knee is on the mend, and Target is mine for the taking. Howevs (and this is where the universe starts wetting its pants), guess who comes down with strep throat on Sunday? And the Mister! We ran some tag-team parenting maneuvers for a day or so, the meds kicked in and then off to the races. Not.
Turns out, the shutters that were ordered back in November have decided to debut today, which means that I have to be home to sign for them. Now these babies don’t come UPS or anything straightforward like that. These guys are considered freight and delivered by a semi-truck. That has to turn around in our driveway. That has been covered in snow and ice for 8 days. And I might have to be the one to guide him out of here, because the Jaxy girl is too busy chewing the shoelaces off of wouldgie-big’s new Pumas.
It was July the last time this driver came out to the creek. It happened to be the same day that 2 of the sweetest fellas were installing the HVAC unit upstairs. I worried about them the whole time, because I could not live with myself if these guys died in my attic. I was forever holding up 3 fingers and asking them their Mother’s maiden name and squirting them with the hose. They were awfully good, sweaty sports about the whole thing, and it was all I could do not to invite them over for Christmas. (The Mister gets funny about these things, so I did it in my head). So when the driver showed up, my heating and air besties helped him unload the beast of a box and directed him back to the road, without wiping out a single tree or boulder.
Mister: You know that truck is going to really mess up the driveway, right?
Mister: Maybe you could tell him to unload it on the dolly and wheel it in from the road?
Me: Well maybe I shouldn’t get all up in this man’s BUSINESS and tell him how to do his J-O-B.
Mister: Yes, because that’s SO unlike you.