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I am sitting here staring into space trying to think of something to write about, and listening to Greg clean the gutters in the backyard (and secretly laughing and feeling guilty at the same time.)  Every now and then I glance out the window and see him slaving away with a broom and giant dustpan.  He’s funny…we were just playing Draw Something in bed on our tablets, and suddenly he decides he’s done AND hungry.  The cover snaps closed on his toy, and he heads out of the room.  I’m thinking he is making breakfast, and then I hear the front door open and close.  Awesome!  He’s going to get me breakfast in bed!  Whoooo hoooo! 

While he’s out getting us breakfast, I remember I need to write a blog after a St. Paddy’s Day celebration the night before…feeling a little foggy, this Irish girl is.  Still, gotta write something.  When I get settled into my comfy chair with my laptop, I hear somebody working in the backyard—that better be my neighbors 12 feet behind us working in their backyard, that’s all I can say!  Then I look out the window and see Greg on the ladder.  What!  I pounded on the window to get his attention, made the food-going-to-mouth motion, and was told to F-off!  Actually, he didn’t say that, but he might as well have!  We still have no breakfast…Useless Irishman!

P.S.  I just took this out to the backyard to read to him, and when I was finished he asked to go get him a hammer.  Should I?