The other day, I had a meeting to talk to my insurance guy, and realized I had coffee breath. I reached for my purse to grab a mint to save him from having to try to talk to me without breathing. Normally, I can reach into my purse blindly, fondle a few items and I am able to pick it out. It wasn't there. I set the purse on my desk and started digging. I pulled out gas receipts from 2 months ago, an army guy, and a couple of deposit slips. No mints. I began to unzip the pockets (not that I ever put them there, but you never know). Nothing. Three minutes later, I admitted defeat. I went to pester my co-workers for one.
Fast forward two days later. I needed a pen. I opened my purse, and lo and behold, there are my mints, right on top sitting in plain view. No digging necessary. I froze. Huh? How does that happen? Do the contents of a purse just get randomly tossed around like clothes in a dryer, and suddenly what was on the bottom is now on the top? But I SWEAR, I dug all through my purse. It wasn't a small container either, about the size of my fist. Or is there some sort of evil sprite who borrows your items and then replaces them just to make you think you are going insane a teeny tiny bit at a time? (Didn't find the pen either.)
I love my husband dearly. I really do. He recently started his own business as a handyman and he's great at it. He knew a lot about home repair when he started, but there were quite a few things that he has researched and learned along the way. The problem is, our house has become the guinea pig. One of the projects that he was having a hard time mastering was texturing. You know, giving your walls or the ceiling those tiny bumps. Not really sure what their purpose is, exactly, but seems like everyone has to have them. Applying these little bumps is not easy. You have to get them relatively the same size and shape, and they must be spread evenly over the surface. During his learning period for this process, I came home and opened the door to the garage. Everything was textured. The walls, garage door....the light switch, the shovels hanging on the walls..... That was another of those moments where you just stop in your tracks, hand on door knob... Whaa..... (by the way, if you don't prime after you texture, and it's damp, it rubs off on clothing.)
|This is the rail our garage to runs on.|
He had another job paneling a guys basement. It was kind of this faux brick paneling. He ended up with a little bit of the materials left over and decided to hang it. But that was the only piece he had. So I'm not sure where he's going with that.
|This is the only piece he has.|
We also have these "Hollywood" lights in our bathroom (they're not my favorite, they came with the house). But for those of you who don't know what I'm talking about, they are a series of large round bulbs in a line, usually hung over your sink. I think we were down to about 2 remaining bulbs that weren't burnt out, so hubby, trying to be an Eco-friendly guy, went out and bought energy saving bulbs. That evening, when I came home from work I ditched the coat and purse to go use the bathroom. I flipped the switch. I nearly went blind. I made a hasty retreat so I didn't resemble the Nazis in the Indiana Jones movie after they looked into the arc (of the covenant?) I stumbled backward and hit the opposite wall with a pretty good looking facial tan. I'm pretty sure the light from the bathroom would have been enough to illuminate our entire hallway and living room.
|This is with every other bulb removed.|
Not to mention some of the things I've said to my kids or seen them do. After scolding them for this or that, I will actually think, "I seriously just had to say that?" Things like, "Get your finger out of the dog's eye." (Or worse, since my Shar Pei has one of those tails that curls up over his back.)
Or, "Get that Play Dough out of your brother's ear!" Some of these sentences seem so insane, "I've told you three times now to quit jumping off there! If you break your arm, don't come cryin' to me!" (Such a fine example of a mother.) I've already told Big K that I hope he has kids just like him when he gets older. I vowed I'd never do that, and he's only six. Hubby also received that curse from his dad, which explains a lot.
My children have no problem with being naked. If you don't put their pajamas on right away, there are a LOT of things that I regret witnessing. One happened tonight. Big K was standing on the kitchen counter (which is not allowed) trying to get something out of the cupboard. Just as I happened to look up to tell him to get down, he says, "What's this?" and bends over at the waist to pick something up. Lord, I did NOT want to see that!
I'd like to know if any one else has these moments, or is it just me? Am I going insane a teensy bit at a time? Please let me know I'm not alone.