Several significant things occurred this week. The hallway, forever-to-be-known-as-the-yellow-bathroom was completed. A post will be coming on that soon. The only thing missing is the mirror over the sink. Which I’ve already decided is going to be too small now. But, for the sanity of my husband and the sanctity of my marriage, I am going to Let. Ride. *for now* I am obsessed with the new bathroom. The tub is a soaking tub. Twice as deep as the old cast iron tub *which had to be broken up with a sledge hammer to get out of the house because it weighed hundreds of pounds*
For the first time ever, Ducky called Timothy McGee, “McGee” instead of Timothy. I had to rewind a number of times because I was so taken aback. Thankfully, I was still reeling from an earlier scene where Gibbs was running through a parking garage. I KNOW. Again. I am obsessed. I was never a huge fan of Jenny Shepherd, by the way.
I almost cut my thumb off tonight. I mean, it was This. Close. Like my heart pounded and I felt nauseous when I realized how bad it would have been if I had actually had my thumb a couple millimeter’s closer to where the knife embedded itself in the counter. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
As I predicted, The Wild Boy spends a whole lot of time soaking in the new tub. He has always been my tub boy. When he would finally agree to get out of the tub, his fingers and toes would be shriveled up prunes and he would literally be shivering because the water had gotten so cold. But he always had a big grin on his face. This is the child who also shoved 10 Hot Wheels cars down the tub drain.*tub obsession*
It’s official, The Wild Boy is committed to Radford. I just ordered the Radford Highlanders flag for the front of the house so he has to go. *$29.95*
I am officially organizing as part of Lent. I know that Lent is about giving up things. I’m giving up disorganization and stuff. Unfortunately, I am at that point in organizing where I have made a bigger mess than there was before I began organizing. Why does it happen that way? I still think it would be easier to just roll the dumpster up to the front door and heave-ho it all out. My mother won’t let me do that, however. But I haven’t seen her up here helping go through all of this crap yet, either.
I’m back at the acupuncturist. Well, I’ve been been once. I’ve had to reschedule three times this week due to snow and the bath remodel dudes having to reschedule. Speaking of which, our bath remodel has also resulted in a new microwave over the new range because our 20 year old microwave finally gave out. And when the plumber was hooking up the new dishwasher, he discovered a leak. He fixed said leak. And another leak showed up. After taking everything apart and reconnecting, he determined the sink is rusting away and the faucet is deteriorating. I suppose that’s fair…it’s been 15 years, after all. So we went to the Home Depot (hate that place, by the way) and picked up a new sink and faucet tonight. I’m not sure where My Man is pulling all this money from, but I can tell you ALL the trees in our back yard are completely bare.
Tonight The Wild Boy used the term “foo manchu” whilst describing his (rather sparse) facial hair. I love him. I just don’t know what I’m going to do when he heads to Radford in August. August 22 to be exact. One hundred seventy days. My gut hurts just thinking about it. So I’m busying my mind with decorating and painting and reorganizing…beginning with My Girl’s room *we have paint picked out already…a robin egg blue*
They are my current love language. *Don’t tell Thomas the Acupuncturist. Or Susan D.*