The school routine is in full swing around here, so we decided to refinish the kitchen cabinets to ensure we don’t miss any excitement.
And by “we”, I really mean Larry. I mean technically the initial plan was that we would tackle this project together. Like, it would be a marital bonding type of thing. But then we realized that our marriage was better served if Larry just did this solo.
That’s not entirely true, but it turned out that it made most sense to start this kitchen overhaul over the long weekend…which happened to be the weekend I had previously planned to spend with my parents. Convenient, I know.
But trust me, Larry did not feel abandoned. Rather, he was somewhat relieved that the risk of a screw-up was greatly diminished by my absence. (It’s important to know your skills and abilities.) (And major home improvement projects is NOT one of mine.)
So Luke and I loaded up the car and headed north to spend the weekend with my family. And all was well and good until Luke vomited ON THE TABLE during lunch on Saturday. Which is something you’re surely thrilled to know. Probably just as thrilled as I was to mop vomit off the bathroom floor at Chili’s during Vomit Round 2.
But we all survived.
Speaking of home projects and such, Luke apparently inherited his father’s enthusiasm for handy man type things. I know this because on Wednesday afternoon, I looked through the dining room window to discover the child propped up against a shovel, wiping sweat off his brow. And it didn’t take me long to figure out how the hole right next to his feet got there.
I was informed that he was building a baseball field (that hole was supposedly the batter’s box), and when I told Facebook, most everyone mentioned Field of Dreams. So I guess we’re basically just waiting on Shoeless Joe and his deceased baseball friends to show up now. Which is just fantastic when you think about it, since we really need something else to be anxious about around here. God bless.
In other exciting news, I have spent the last 4 DAYS studying Greek. Like, literally. Which means that I have 3 baskets of unfolded laundry, and the toilet paper rolls in 3 of the 4 bathrooms are just leaning on top of their respective holders. (Because I am obviously the only one in this household who knows how to put new rolls ON THE HOLDER.) (And I haven’t taken the time to enable my family lately because Greek of course.)
But y’all. I love it to a scary nerdy level. (Greek, not my family’s toilet paper crisis.) For example, this conversation happened one morning last week:
Larry (as he walked into my study): Why are you crying?
Amy: I don’t know…I think because I just love learning Greek so much. Is that weird?
Larry: Yes. Yes, it is.
So there’s that. My very own Field of Dreams, mind you. But love doesn’t necessarily equal automatic success since I pretty much bombed my first quiz. Following that calamity, I sent my professor an email which may or may not have stated something about how Greek just broke my heart a little bit.
Thankfully, through that experience I learned that I can’t expect to absorb the information in one sitting and expect to fully grasp and retain any kind of worthwhile knowledge. And my poor professor learned that he has That Student in class this semester. (The jury is still out regarding how thrilled he is about that.)
The upside is that I made a 94 on my second quiz because, well, those 4 days and all. Which also explains why my social media channels have been like radio silence lately. And it also explains why you are reading a lame post about vomit and Greek 101. You are welcome.
Just don’t discount the fact that you’ve been inspired to build your own field of dreams or something. (Maybe?) (No?) Yeah, probably not.
I wish I could help you with that, but I can’t because I have to go do something with this crater in our front yard before Larry gets home and I have to get into a conversation about how dead people might start showing up.
Seriously. Life cannot be more awesome.
I’m just glad I get to share it with you…
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