Cheryl, John, John, Cheryl.
If not for the fact that chance meetings between strangers rarely occur in your master bathroom, you’d wonder if the two people in this story knew each other. On the eve of prime time, this fine March evening, Cheryl was slaving away in the bathroom. She left the bathroom running at full impulse power, carrying an armful of cleaning supplies. Upon her departure…
“Cheryl, why don’t you take the knobs off before you paint the doors?”
“If you want to paint, then take the knobs off.”
Touche!
Three hours later,
I find myself finishing up the inside of our pantry door. I’m putting the finishing touches on my masterpiece, a flawless paint job around a doorknob – still installed. It must have taken me fifteen minutes…
We’ve all been there, right? You know, one of those days where we set ourselves up for a spectacular failure.
It all started with my bottle of freshly mixed, instant ice tea. First, I picked up the bottle, applying a sudden force. Due to the nature of the force applied to the bottle, it rose from my desk in a relatively rapid manner. The bottle, in turn, applied a similar force to the…
Having lived in a housework deficit for three, germ infested, weeks; Cheryl was as eager as an alcoholic in a liquor store. (I am convinced her need for clean is a symptom of an addictive personality, but don’t tell her I said that.)
“John, would you like to do some mopping this morning?”
Good thing I wasn’t eating at the time, I might have needed medical attention.
The Kauffman Household, version 2.2.1, has all the appeal of an isolation ward. It’s enough to put a smile on all those kids that made fun of me in grammar school. Yes, there’s been a real run on items such as Kleenex and cough drops. It all started with Beth, yes, Beth. Beth spends six or so hours, five days a week at the germ bank, known in some circles as “the public education…
Have you ever wanted to let out a cathartic scream, but didn’t? Futility over comes you instead, and you do nothing – hopelessly wallowing in the absurdity of the moment.
A phrase comes to mind, “if it’s not one thing it’s,”
One minute Cheryl is guilting me into riding my bike to work. She’s browbeating her parents into accepting my exercising needs. The…
My daughter is in second grade, and she has spent more time on homework these last couple days than I spent my entire senior year of high school. Now before you say something snide about my senior year of high school, remember that I got into a decent college – even after my senior year. However, I will admit I was something less than your model high school student (unless your model was…
There are few things that warm my heart with contentment more than watching one of my kids sleeping. Lest your cynicism take hold; no, it’s not because they’re simply not awake. It’s all those things you hear other people say but don’t really appreciate until it’s you. It’s the innocence, the peacefulness, the adorableness, the loveliness.
You know what? I can…
It is evening, two hours before your normal bedtime. What do you suppose is the worst thing you could do? How about a little nap?
You go to bed at a reasonable hour, after your unplanned hour-long nap. You lie down to bed with what you believe to be a great recipe for sleep, a book you’ve already read once and a drowsy head start. Only, it isn’t such a tasty recipe after all. Now…