(I talk fast. So read fast.)
Last week was quite busy. I set the kitchen on fire by shorting out my crappy stove with my mind. It was a small, albeit alarming fire (even though the only alarm going off was me, hollering "B! Get the Extinguisher!" and his typical teenage response, "uh...why?") I was a little knocked off my center by the realization that had I not been standing Right There, I'd have No Kitchen and possibly No House right now. So I pretty much took the rest of the day to recover. By Wednesday, I was happily dreaming of a Whole New Kitchen, and had picked out a new stove. Yeah. It's four grand. I'm awesome.
We are getting the
I really thought my week was shaping up to be a bit dramatic for my tastes, but then I hit a kid on a bike. He came out of a parking lot at full speed. I swerved. But failed. He's fine (I think.) But I was shaken. Different story for another day. He hurt my minivan. And my faith in humanity. I should say he is seventeen years old and if I were a lovely well behaved stay at home mom, I wouldn't mention that his bike was
I thought I had about had the kind of week that makes you want to stay home and hide. I might have said that out loud, and then spent Saturday cursing my tendency to think with my mouth.
Me: I just want to Stay Home today.
Highlander: I want to clean the garage today.
Me: I want to get an apartment. You clean the garage.
Highlander: You can't have an apartment.
Me: I bet the stove will work in my apartment.
Highlander: I found you a new stove. Until we get the 'stove you want.' The orange one.
Me: So now I'm getting an ugly stove and I'm spending the day cleaning the garage?
Highlander: It'll be awesome.
And so, from 10am until 6pm, we cleaned the garage. It was and epic Pain in the Arse.
But it's clean. Like, really really clean. And Bonus! Look what I found that I forgot I had!