You would think that Cheryl would know better.
I’m sitting in the dinning room after supper one evening. I can’t remember what we were talking about. For some reason unbeknownst to me, I mentioned the cost of some software that I would like to get some day. You may be thinking that this was some clandestine plot to plant seeds, but it really wasn’t. Cheryl responds: “why don’t you go ahead and get it?” At this moment, several reasons come to mind, most of which involve nonspecific memories of Cheryl saying “…we don’t have enough money for that right now….” So I reply, “Because I didn’t think it was a priority right now, with all of the things we want to get for the house.” Now, you have to admit that this was a world class response. I couldn’t have come up with a better reply if I had a night to think it over. Cheryl thinks it over and decides: “well, let’s see where we are after this month.” You bet I will!

What I did this weekend, in 20 words or less:
I played with a free, tryout version of the software I hope to buy next month.

When I wasn’t playing with my computer, we did a couple of responsible things this week. We finally made it down to Home Depot to buy Pergo, the laminate alternative to real wood that is a snap to install. We’ll see in a couple of weeks I guess (when it is delivered). We also go to see the famous Garrison-Jones Elementary School, where Beth will be starting kindergarten next fall. It’s funny how everyone refers to school starting in the fall. I can’t remember school ever starting sometime other than August, and nothing says summer to me more than August in Florida. You go running around in my back yard in August and tell me it’s fall. The occasion for our visit to Beth’s new school was parent orientation. We got to meet all of the kindergarten teachers, sit in little people chairs, and be spoken to like the little people that normally sit in them. I don’t mean to infer that they were speaking down to us, just that their classroom techniques were coming out in their presentation. The best example that I can think of was this: a teacher pointed to each of the items of a list posted on the wall, as she spoke about each item. The practice of pointing to visual aids as you discuss them is common. What made me feel like a kindergarten student was the teacher pointing to each of the individual words as she spoke them.

We spent mother’s day at our new, old standby: Jesse’s Seafood. Unlike our last experience there, I loved my food. Unfortunately, I can’t say the same for my in-laws. Cheryl’s mom sat across from me and said, “I ordered my steak cooked medium.” I then looked at a cross section of her steak. I could describe what I saw in many ways. However, none of them would include the word “pink.” Cheryl’s mother can be one of the most diplomatic people I know (when speaking to someone other than a blood relative). Despite her struggles dividing the meat into digestible portions, the worst thing she had to say about her meal was: “the meat seams a little tough.” This seemed a bit of an understatement, considering the color of her knuckles at the time. They had less pink in them than the meat.

On a somber note, we’ve been coping with the prospect of losing some friends to relocation. The best man at my wedding appears likely to be headed to Virginia. While we are happy for him and the opportunity that awaits him and his family, we are saddened and jealous by the prospect. I don’t make friends easily, and making matters worse I don’t pay enough attention to the ones I’ve got. We will see them off with no small amount of sadness and regret.

Finally, I’m finishing this up on the 8th anniversary of our wedding, and I love my bride more than ever.