This was supposed to be the first weekend in three months that Mr. J would be home all weekend and available to participate in family life. Literally since the end of July, there have been only two weekends that he was not wholly occupied with sailing all weekend, and one of those weekends was our anniversary trip to Maine.
I desperately need a new pair of shoes for the cold weather - my driving mocs/ bus-walking shoes are completely trashed - and I need some new bras but I need to get fitted first. I don't want to take my children for these activities; although Little Bits would love the shoe department, I feel that they are rather too much to unleash on the sanctity of Dillard's lingerie department. I can only imagine the Bear's running commentary on the measuring process.
So I've been waiting and waiting for this weekend. Did I mention that Sunday is the Bear's birthday? Did I mention that we have family and Bear's friends coming over to our house on Sunday afternoon ... and that our powder room toilet has been broken for at least eight months, plus there's a gaping hole in the screen door on the back porch and a pile of crap next to our garage that makes us look like white trash? For Mother's Day - yes, that's right, in May - I asked Mr. J to address these household tasks plus a couple other items that should take a handy man like himself less than two hours, total, to complete. None have been tackled, but he did find time to install his friend's garbage disposal, so there's that.
To complete the white trash motif, our grass is overgrown, and my toes haven't seen a pedicure since August.
Mr. J just told me that he has booked sailing lessons both days this weekend. I cussed him like a sailor, then called my mother and cried.
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