White People Problems (Part 1)
I must be out of my mind to start writing again. But, I have to. I threw that Introduction to The Family page out there so now there is pressure. Plus, time is passing and I curse myself every day that I’m not documenting this time in our life. So, with good intentions, I was totally ready to come home, sit down and write—but I totally forgot all about the construction and demo work starting at my house the very same day.
It is loud. Loud, Loud, Loud. And there’s men all the over my house. Actually, I think there are only three men, but I swear, no matter where I need to be, they are there. Of course most of the work is being done in the kitchen, where I spend 90% of my life, so now with three fairly large men and myself, there isn’t a ton of room to move because it’s not that big of a kitchen, but also– it’s not that small. So MOVE!!!
But I feel bad because they are all so nice.
Construction Guy #1 is great, but he just can’t seem to wrap his head around the fact that I work from home. Normally, I work from my desk, but because of the construction, it’s trashed and my dining room table is now home to a bunch of crap from the kitchen and one of the closets that has to be re-done
…so there really isn’t anywhere else for me to go except the kitchen table.
While attempting to work, I managed to hold my own during much of the “construction conversation” (I didn’t want to be rude), but I started to stress about getting my work done right around the time Construction Guy #1 opened a discussion about how his wife made him re-do their shower right after he finished it because he didn’t put a shelf in there for her to shave her legs. I told him that I sympathized with him but truthfully, he should have known better, the shower shelf is key for the ladies.
No more talkie-talkie though. I was legitimately behind and I had a rush order to get in. I guess it’s probably my fault that the conversation continued though because I left my iPod on while I was gone earlier that day so, when all of the sudden, a completely inappropriate song came on, I felt like I needed to apologize. CG#1 said that he didn’t even notice the music–it was just “noise“ to him. But then he went on to say that he was happy to hear “Little Drummer Boy” by Bob Seger when it came on.
Oh, really CG#1?? How did you even notice that “Little Drummer Boy” came on? I thought it was all NOISE? …but in real life I was “Oops, I must have it on the Playlist that plays ALL the songs because otherwise there wouldn’t be Christmas music on this time of year…” and he was probably “Why does this lady listen to Christmas music when she has mezuzahs on virtually every door in her house?” (The answer, of course, is because the mezuzahs were gifts and nobody gives a mezuzah away. I mean, I guess you could re-gift a mezuzah, but still…you just don’t).
It turns out, though, that he probably wasn’t thinking that at all because he then started telling me about all the times he saw Bob Seger live–and then the other guy, Construction Guy #2, decides he wants in on the conversation so he starts telling his story about how he once saw Bob Segar for $5.00 and then THEY STARTED ONE UPPING EACH OTHER ON BOB SEGER STORIES.
Well, I didn‘t want any part of that, AND, truth be told– I don’t even like that “Little Drummer Boy” song–I only have it on my iPod because my 6 year old likes it.
So now I’m back to eating my lunch and working on my rush order, they’re having their little I Heart Bob Seger Party when, WHAT DO YOU KNOW? CG#2 draws me back in.
“Hey, do you guys have a dog?”
Oh, come on.
COME ON!!
Before I even respond I decide that my answer is just too exhausting and too painful, so the best thing for me to do would be to NOT engage, but of course I do.
I had to. I couldn’t figure out why he thought we had a dog. Does our house smell like dog? Is there leftover dog hair in places I don’t know about? WHAT??
He tells me that he couldn’t help but notice the big basket of dog toys.
Ohhhhhhhh, right. I wish I could say that I’m a sentimental fool, and I’m just not ready to retire my very awesome dead dog’s toys, but I’m not. I totally forgot about them. They’re in a basket in the corner in the family room and they just kind of blend in. Also, I can’t even tell you the last time I was in the family room. Who’s got time to hang out in the family room? There’s no hanging out in the family room. There used to be hanging out in the family room, but now, with a 4-year-old and a 6-year-old, it’s all kitchen, bathrooms and bedrooms. The kids have their playroom, my husband, has his “Ken Den” and I have the garage (for private phone calls with my girl, “Busy,” and my 2 cigarettes a day–yeah, you know it! Livin’ large in the GARAGE!!) But the family room? No. We only used that room before we were an actual family.
I explained to the guys (I have no idea what happened to CG#3 at this point) that we lost our dog, Floyd Coden, back in November and, as expected, the next question from CG#2 was “Are you getting another one?”
So now, of course, I have to explain that we have had some trouble with Golden Retriever Rescue not letting us rescue another dog because our kids are under 10 years old.
Then, out of nowhere, CG#1 jumps in with “Yeah, it’s easier to adopt a kid than a dog.”
Oh boy.
Um, I’m sorry, CG#1. I used that as a Facebook post once and it was funny because I actually adopted a kid, but you, NO.
How bad did that suck for him though?
Poor guy was probably so proud of himself for coming up with a great line like that and the one lady he says it to, the ONE lady, had to be the lady who not only rescues dogs, but also adopted a kid.
WHAT ARE THE CHANCES??
I felt sorry for him.
I have to go so I will be back with Part 2 later!
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