Because we are getting our house ready to sell, (Yes, really...) we have had to finish up on a few home improvement projects.
And because for the past nine years I have been the instigator for all these projects, I decided I'm tired of it.
So I said as much.
"I think you really want to kill me."
"Seriously. Just do it."
"What are you talking about."
"You want to move now?"
"I think we should."
"Why didn't we move before the baby showed up?"
"Because we didn't need to then."
"But we do now?"
"I think so."
I think about all the work that has to be done. All the boxes to be packed. How much crap we have to sift through. I feel a little sick.
"I think you want to give me a stroke."
So because our house goes up for sale this week, yesterday we spent the afternoon at Home Depot picking up a few things that we needed. Actually, I let Matt figure out what kind of baseboard molding he needed to get while Sena and I hung out in the tile aisle and I showed her different samples of mosaic glass tiles I thought would look good on the backsplash.
Sena said, "Eeeeeahhhh! Blurraaaaack! Eeeeech!" Which could translate to the following:
Why are you asking me, lady? I'm a baby!
That afternoon Matt impressed me by wiring a new light fixture, spackling concrete, and cutting molding with a mitre saw without cutting his fingers off.
"Who are you?" I asked him.
"I'm a man! I'm doing man things!"
"Are you going to start grunting now?"
"Get me a beer, woman!"
"How bout a Fresca?"
"Beer! Men drink beer!"
"You are so hot right now..."