The hubs had to be on the job-site a little early this morning, so his alarm clock woke us up sometime after 5:00. My alarm always chimes in at 6:00 on the dot. This morning, however, I got up when his clock radio went off and I stumbled to the kitchen to turn my coffee on. When he noticed that I was awake, he says, "honey, it's only 5:30. Why don't you go back to bed till your alarm goes off? You don't have to get up just because I am up." Sounds good to me. I was more than happy to do so. A few minutes went by and although I think I am dreaming, I realize I'm not .. he's asking me a question ....
Him: Hey, have you seen my phone?
Me: No. Look on the desk.
Him: (yelling from the living room, which is close to Stephen's room) It isn't there!
Me: Maybe it's in your truck.
Me: MAYBE, IT'S IN YOUR TRUCK!
Him: (Comes in the room) Where?
Me: ::sigh:: Why don't you dial your number and listen for it?
Him: Dials the number. (Can't hear it anywhere in the house.)
Him: Oh, I bet I left it in the truck.
Me: (beginning to feel like I'm in an, "I Love Lucy" episode)
Him: (Goes outside, comes back in.) Hey, it was in the truck.
Me: ::sigh:: You don't say!?!... (with just a hint of sarcasm)
We say our goodbyes.
A few minutes go by ...
Him: (coming back in the house) Hey! Do we have any bandages? [all joking aside, the poor thing got a nasty burn at work last night]
Me: (I can't believe this!) YES!!!
Him: (coming back in the room) Hey, do we have any bandages?
Him: Where are they?
Now, he's lived here just as long as I have. Why doesn't he know where we keep things like that?
Me: The medicine cabinet! (as I throw the blanket from myself and jump to the floor, thinking, "Oh-My-Gosh!!! Are you kidding me?")
I opened the medicine cabinet, hand him the box of large bandages and walk back to the bedroom.
Him: (I swear, really he did) Do we have any tape? (just as I was getting back under the blanket)
Me: LOL! (I'm laughing in a semi-crazy, lunatic sort of way by now. I don't know whether to laugh, cry or cuss.)
I got up, knowing we didn't have any of "that kind" of tape. I walked over to the drawer where we keep the tape, batteries, etc. and found some painter's tape. and gave it to him. I explained this is all I could come up with and I hope it'll work.
Him: (He bandaged himself up, walks out and sees me drinking my coffee and watching the morning news.) Honey, what are you doing up? Why didn't you go back to bed?
Me: A blank stare as a million ugly words come to my mind but I didn't say any of them.
After all, seriously - the man got hurt at work last night, didn't complain as much as I would have with a burn like that. He's been working literally from daylight to dark for weeks. What do I have to complain about?
[anyone who personally knows us, will understand that statement]
I'm not sure when ithappened, but somewhere along the way, we have started "growing up." The old me would have pitched seven duck fits in a row. ... And he wouldn't have cared (or known) what time I got up.
Still taking it one day at a time ...
I'll be back soon with some helpful links