And That Was Stranger

I took K out on a date tonight. It was a good thing we did. The baby is teething and therefore a royal pain in the ass and our frustration with grumpy baby was to scream and throw things at each other. I've actually got a cut on my thigh where K went after me with the fork when she snapped while washing dishes. I left her with a black eye at least.*

So after we finished our own little private cage match (E seemed to enjoy it. He watched us go at it, giggled, and then went back to his books and gravity experiments.), we dropped the kid off at his grandparents and drove to a relatively nearby town for dinner and a movie. (And new cell phones since K lost hers and mine was old enough that the Verizon guys laughed when I pulled it out. That usually only happens when people see my penis.) Getting the phones took about an hour so we didn't get to the restaurant until 8 p.m., but the food was okay and K was smiling again, so I was happy and agreed to take her over to Bruster's for some ice cream before heading over to the movies. The odd thing is that all of this occurred within more or less the same parking lot. Seriously. The Verizon was next to the movie theater and I only had to drive around the corner in the parking lot to get to the restaurant and Bruster's was next door to that.

It was at Bruster's that we got the bad news. E was fine. We found out that he'd finally grasped waving goodbye while under the tutelage of my parents (he also mastered walking unaided while staying with them a few months ago). He was fine. We found out that the handyman that we'd depended on to get our house into working order at wages we could actually afford with our modest salaries had died earlier in the day of a heart attack. His girlfriend found him unconscious in their yard and by the time the paramedics arrived, he was already dead. I hate this. Stevie and I didn't have a lot in common, but he was a good man, and I liked him. K and I never could have afforded to move into the place without him, but I'd like to think my sadness at the news was for more than the knowledge that I lost this human resource. Thanks again for all the help, Stevie.

And maybe Julie's right. I probably should stop mentioning people in my blog. It's apparently not safe. Actually, apparently it only affects people for whom I've used blog space to express my gratitude. If you've been the recipient of a thank you or some sort of acknowledgement of your value to me on this blog, I'd probably be getting to the insurance guy as soon as possible to get the biggest life insurance policy possible. Actually, to keep my dark gift under wraps, I may just forgo expressing gratitude ever again, so if you ever do something nice for me and I don't say or do anything in return, know that it's not me being a prick, but me saving your life. The fact that I get to save money by not having to buy you dinner or a beer for helping me move is just a bonus.

*In case you don't have a sense of the absurd, that was a joke. K and I were grumpy at best, although the time alone hanging out was definitely needed.