Our big project for fall break has been mucking out the boys' bonus rm/man cave. Laws... what a dusty, dark, nasty hole! So I give Mr B fair warning, grit my teeth, ask my MIL to pray for her son and heirs' safety (this kinda project makes me wanna go all Roman and crucify deserving folks), and pull the trigger. Natch'rally. And it is a catastrophe-with fair results. Mr B and I bicker the whole time; lil brother goofs off and doesn't listen or help much; big kid turns every job into a throwing athletic contest while mosey-ing around oblivious that his padre is snarling and foaming at the mouth and his mother has turned into a vampiric ice queen with psychotically narrowed eyes. Mr B did eventually apologize (vaguely), and I did eventually warm up (slightly). And the boys continued to be clueless that their parents nearly d-i-v-o-r-c-e-d and moved into one bedroom apartments on the wrong side of town.
Big kid said it best: "Hey mom, did you know that 98% of marriages end in home renovations?"
Big kid (who's getting a lil big for his britches) keeps at it: "Hey dad, remember in that movie when that guy said, 'Marriage is like a rickety bridge. Just don't put any stress on it and it'll be fine?' "
Hells bells! Ain't that The Truth?!?
After I have my chuckle over this touchy (yet truthful) metaphor, I banish big kid to the bonus rm/man cave. Natch'rally.
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