Father-in-law (FIL) got here last night after a missed connection in Detroit, a lost bag and a three-hour delay. Thankfully his bag was on the Nashville end when he arrived somewhat groggy with a travel hangover. The prospect of him having to wear some of my clothes until we could get him more was entertaining but probably not realistic. As I write this, he’s puttering away in the kitchen taking care of his morning routine – OJ followed by cereal followed by coffee followed by eggs followed by coffee followed by something…I’m totally going to catch hell for this by the way though he knows that I write this and that I write everything. Anyway, poor FIL got the guest bathroom with the hideous brown granite walls, the wonky draining tub and the toilet where you have to hold the handle to get it to flush. But of course, after a day of missed connections and missing luggage, the toilet handle decided to break off entirely. So now FIL has to take the lid off and stick his hand in the tank to make the toilet flush. After which, he will take a shower where the drain doesn’t drain. We treat our guests right here. Broken toilets seem to be a theme with FIL’s visits. The first time he stayed with us in our new house in California, we’d not quite finished remodeling the guest bathroom and FIL had to use ours. Let me tell you, even if you know someone will be tromping through your bedroom to use the master bathroom in the middle of the night, it still will scare the snot out of you when it happens. And then getting back to sleep will not happen but when you finally do sleep, your dreams are peppered with monsters and murderers who go bump in the night. When we finally got his toilet installed, it turned out have a crack in the base and so leaked all over the new bathroom floor. Then FIL and I had the privilege of going shopping for a replacement with Husband’s OCD specifications. It was a bonding experience for us new in-laws. Nothing says “Hi, you’re stuck with me for life or until your son finds someone he likes better.” than shopping for a toilet in a home improvement store where people won’t help you. Ever. Unless you have your boobs on display as my friend is known to do. Lots of people help then. I even got helped once because I was standing next to her boobs. Boobs are magical like that. FIL refused to get his boobs out so we were forced to trap a store employee and make him do his job. And now here we go again, FIL and I off to the home improvement store looking for toilet stuff. The good news is that folks here in Nashville are way more customer-oriented. We’re likely to have more than one employee helping us - boobs or no boobs. Now whether we can understand their accent and they can understand FIL’s will be the challenge. Picture me ping ponging between two folks trying to make this happen while speaking non-standard plumbing speak. In-law bonding is awesome. Indoor plumbing is better. Also, this guy has been hanging about the yard. He is MASSIVE. The pictures don’t do him justice. Note the same "What do you think you are looking at, Lady?" pose he's giving me? I've been getting that a lot.
Between him and the several sets of mamas and babies we’ve been seeing, Tigger the Dog is almost blasé about having deer in the yard. Of course, this is because she's viewing them from behind large window. We’ve not let her outside to play with the deer yet. Me thinks she’d freak out just a little bit and never go out again. Husband is not willing to try. He’s a responsible dog owner like that. Me, I’m curious. And just a little bit evil. Hence my punishment to got to the home improvement store with FIL. No idea what he’s done wrong to have to go with me…
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AuthorMy name is ej. I'm a girl. I say that because with the short hair and the short initials, folks aren't always sure. More brilliant insights to who I am in About me Archives
April 2019
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