A good day

I feel like I have just had an all-around good day.

• I found out that my car sputtering was a simple fix for out-of-date sparkplugs. A good tune-up and Petey is going strong.
• I made it to the eye-doctor for a check up on my contacts and I found I was there JUST IN TIME to avert an infection in my tear duct.
• I got a reprieve yesterday from this weeks time-pressure event; iglooing. That was really going to make this week hard to arrange.
• Even though I found out today, technically, the fact that 25 CD’s were stolen from our unlocked vehicle Sat night means this days high is unaffected.
• Last week I was nominated to be on the homeowners association board of trustees. Okay, so I nominated myself, (this isn’t a popularity contest you know) but never minding that, they didn’t turn up their noses at the suggestion. So, I will be editing the twice annual newsletter and probably be called off the bench for the occasional look at the website.
• And just tonight, whilst preparing to sit with Abby in the bathroom for bath time with my trusty Powerbook, ready to blog my heart out she said

No! Play with me.

I grimaced slightly because getting wet, leaning over the edge of a hard tub on a soft, dinner-full belly, and with kneecaps crying out in agony, “Please sir! We do request sweet relief from the bone-spur inducing, textured laminate!”…well all of that didn’t sound like fun. I really just wanted to write down my good day anyway. So, I peace-offered an alternative

I know, maybe I’ll shave! (reasoning that she always likes to watch me shave)

Now, I really detest shaving, it takes too long, it hurts more than half the time and really the last thing I want to do when I am barely out of my warm snuggly covers is splash water on my face, lean CLOSER over a sharp edged sink, focus my quarter sized pupils on a brightly lit mirror, and in my serotonin regulated stupor draw a RAZOR across my face.

It has never appealed to me.

I don’t care what women say, acres of legs sound so much better. It is mostly straight and well…of course I would still have to bend at the waist which I am finding increasingly uncomfortable these days.

Huh. I detect a pattern. I observe “increasingly” being the active term.

Anyway, “…maybe I’ll shave” has just escaped my 3 weeks growth (this time I have a good reason though. I am still going to be sleeping in an igloo for two nights, just not THIS weekend. The next one instead.)

“…maybe I’ll shave!” just hanging there like a cartoon bubble and Abby, without hesitation and a serious tilt to her head from the far corner of the tub replies

No wayyy mister. You are NOT putting all that hair in MY sink!

Future spouse I offer this now:

• First of all – It wasn’t me
• Secondly – I’ll back her up all the way
• And lastly – I hope you like to shave more frequently than I because shaving with hose water is, confidently put, REALLY cold.

Update: I still didn’t shave and I did end up splashing the bejeebers out of Abby and the bathroom in general while deftly illustrating how much water can be pulled six feet high from the underside of an overturned water pitcher.