Desperate Housewife? (Ew)

How shall I put this without sounding less than holy . . . I don't think there is a way.  So I'll be less than holy and promptly get a ringle jingle from Big D.  (this would be one of those times that having him subscribed to my life is probably not in my best interest)

So, remember this neighbor?

Her treemen came today. *pant*

Let me back up a tad more.  Bruver Bear Chuck basically woke me up this morning.  He called last night to tell me that his wife hadn't had the baby.  I got sidetracked from that little call (that I did NOT answer because I was driving in turd twisting traffic) and took the wrong turn.  And yelled "CURSES".

So he called me back this morning on his drive to work so we could catch up on ridiculous life.  And reminisce about all the times he had to apologize to adults when he was a kid.  My favorite story from this morning was the time that one of our mother's friends had to pick him up from piano lessons.  He climbed in the vehicle and shouted, "smells like fish in here".  Then he grabbed our mother's friend's hair, took a whopping sniff and exclaimed, "yup, that's what it is".

*can't stop laughing about that one.*

And then Bruver Chuck hung up and I raced to the restroom to take care of morning things and looked in the mirror, and smirkingly thought "ha, I look like I'm ready to see the neighbor".  And then I said,  "OH poopies and peepees!!! It's Thursday and the neighbor said she was coming back today to talk about tree stuff"  *pant pant pant*

I threw clothes on.  Which entailed picking up yesterday's clothes off the floor.  But the neighbor wouldn't know that.  And smeared on about 7 inches of deodorant because an alarming stench was wafting out of my pores from panicking about the neighbor.

Then I looked in the mirror and said, "yes, yes.  that looks quite nice".  And decided to throw on some makeups and really wow the neighbor.

Well, before the neighbor came over, the treemen came.  They backed up their big-rig down the narrow driveway.  And these men starting crawling out of the woodwork (no pun intended) (just kidding - pun intended)  Lots and lots of men.  They had these auras of testosterone that gleamed and glittered.  Lots and lots of workboots. *pant*  Nasty workmen jeans that only workmen can wear. *pant*  Red dirty t-shirts. *pant*  Hard hats and workmen sunglasses.  *pant*  And big BIG muscles *pant pant pant pant pant pant*  And really loud machines. *pant*  But the thing I LOVED the most, was the yelling.  NONSTOP.  Bickering and hollering and singing and bossing.  And yelling.

So, the foreman gets in the cherry-picker basket and somebody raises him up over to the tree.  And at that exact moment, all the other workmen revved every engine that was in sight.  The truck, the woodchipper, and all 37 chainsaws.  And the foreman starts yelling.  Really loud.

I think a woman would have a) taken notes while up in the cherry-picker to talk about when she got back down on the ground b) have everybody turn off their power tools so she could yell from way above the clouds OR c)  used something technical and smart.

But no.  They just yell.  And yell.  And it was delightful.

And finally the neighbor came over and asked if I'd like to come over and talk to the men about getting some scraps for our Tiny Tim fire pit.

P.S.  When I opened the door for the neighbor, she said, "hello beautiful".  And I felt like a queen because I wasn't in my mom pajamas.  Nor was my hair greasy and parted down the middle.

I grabbed both kids hands and we marched our bottoms straight over to the treemen - which happened to be around the corner - because the neighbor lives directly behind us.  I hoped I looked fancy enough.  Because every mother wants to be noticed.  Especially by treemen. (do I sound like a hussy?)

And there I was.  Standing before these huge, manly, sweat-covered, treemen.  I was promptly directed to the foreman - and this greek-like, mythical creature turns around.  And I couldn't help myself.  I got real close. And sniffed real hard.  And laid my hand on his arm - squeezed his muscular bulge, and said, "sorry.  I couldn't resist."

Kidding.

Instead, I snorted twice and said, "hi . . . uh . . . .um . . .. .er . . . .I want . . . some.  I need the firewood.   Throw it over the fence."  And then they said some things to me that I don't remember, because now I had  a small crowd of treemen around me.  But I do know that I twisted my tongue 7 more times and ran home.  And hid in the house.

But I have a nice pile of firewood that will make Big D mad.  And I'll say, "go put on your hard hat and cut me some wood."

Take Aways
1)  Never ever leave the house.
2)  And if you do, definitely don't open your mouth.
3)  Just smile and nod.
4)  Wear a whiteboard around your neck in case you run into a situation where words need to be exchanged.
5)  Need to remember that God made me one of the worst speakers in the world for a reason.
6)  Maybe it's to help with my pride.
7)  Or maybe it's to keep me out of more trouble than I already get myself into.
8)  Possibly it was to make me write, because if I could talk, I definitely wouldn't be writing.  Takes too long.
9)  Rent a chainsaw for the weekend.  Maybe a few, and have my own treemen party.  But I'll stay in the house.  And yell.

Fun Fact

I scrubbed this monstrosity today.

Bye-bye pee dribbles and grease splatters.

Don't look too close.  It's not perfect.  But it's good enough for me.