Don't Pet That Dog

It has been a strange few days.  My favorite  part was when PHD went to pick up the kids from school on Wednesday.  I don't like to go inside the school where principals and teachers tend to grab you to just mention "one small thing" that your child has been doing, probably because you are a terrible parent. PHD's approach is to go right on in and pretend he's back in elementary school minus the ever present threat of expulsion he was under when he actually was a student.  To each his own.  It takes all kinds. He's nutty.  Whatever.  On this day, 

My brain was protecting me from that memory

I had completely forgotten about this. Shortly after we returned from Florida, and I had the first inkling that we might not be the class act I imagine us to be(Redneck), our  front doorknob gave out.  I guess it was old and tired of turning all the time so it quit doing that. Sometimes we couldn't get into the house and sometimes we couldn't get out.  It was a fun little adventure for about a week. Especially the time I was stuck on the front step in -35C weather. PHD finally took out the doorknob and decided it couldn't be fixed. 

Here is yet another example of how differently we handle situations. I thought we should go to Home Depot and get a new doorknob, you know, one that turned, and maybe even locked.  Here was PHD's solution:

When I suggested that a tea towel jammed into the hole in place of an installed doorknob was less than ideal, he looked at me like I was insane, "Are you worried a tiny robber will stick his hand in and unlock the deadbolt?"  I said, "No, I am worried that I need to explain to you why it is ridiculous to use a dish towel as a doorknob."  What I was really worried about was that in that moment, I couldn't think of a single valid reason why we couldn't just use the towel to plug the hole. PHD has broken my common sense.  So I went to bed and had dreams about eyes peeking in the hole, or things slithering in. 

He did put in a doorknob about two days later.  Since then, I have figured out why you can't use a dishtowel as a doorknob.  The missing doorknob is just the beginning.  Next maybe you think the front lawn is a good place to keep a spare toilet, you get a gun rack in your truck, or maybe you get a goat as a pet. It all starts to seem reasonable.

It's a slippery slope people.

Rename the Husband Contest

Today, November 11, is our 15 year wedding anniversary.  (Yes, I was a child bride.)  I figured the date would be hard to forget, because for one, it was 11/11/95 and two, it's Remembrance Day.(It is still possible to forget, though, and if you  think you can hear  "Oh *$#@!" as you read this, H1 is also reading this and realizing he has forgotten. ) Little bonus - always a stat holiday on our anniversary.  Look how young we were:

Recently, H1 figured out how to access my blog.  He thought it was all very funny , particularly Finger Knitting, and SOS Batman , however, he didn't care for the name H1. In fact, he has threatened to start looking for W2, a couple of times. I think he's kidding. Just to be safe, and in honour of our 15 years of wedded bliss, I will do something to make him happy.  I will hold a "Name My Blog Husband Contest".  (If you thought I was going to say something else, you need to get your mind out of the gutter.  Or not.  I am just recognizing  you as dirty!) If you are the one person reading this blog that doesn't actually know him, here's what you need to know about him (and thanks for reading my blog, One Person that doesn't know us):

He is very charming, funny and interesting.  He is from Nova Scotia. He does things like build Lego tables with/for the boys.

He is a plumber, and runs his own business. I tell him what to do all the time and he ignores most of it until he thinks I am not paying attention. 

He is also a bit accident prone. He once got his head stuck in a house, his upper arm impaled to (impaled on or impaled to? Not sure.) his work van and falls down on a consistent basis, especially if there is a puddle of water in which to land.

Lately, he is obsessed with marbles.

That's all you need to know to get started! Whomever comes up with the best name wins!  No, you don't win anything good like an iPod, unless you want one that doesn't work (see Where's All My Stuff? ).  I will pick my favorite name and use that from now on, or start calling him by his real name, whichever I like better.   Fun!