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Hey Oprah!  Did you think I was mad at you?  I haven’t written to you in a while, so I can understand why you might be concerned, however, it wouldn’t hurt for you to express it once in a while.  Actually I have been swamped!  School’s back in session, and people are beginning to panic that the Holidays are around the corner and their homes look like crap (speaking in the mind of client, not a judgment.)  Naturally, the design world starts to get busy because of this.  So, I have had work again after a very quiet summer.  In the midst of this, we are letting some friends of ours use our crib for their forthcoming granddaughter, and I had the stupid notion that painting it pink for them would be fun.  They have been generous and kind to us through the years, so I thought it would be a fun gesture.  Good GOD!  What was I thinking?  All those spindles…with a paint brush…never again, will I paint a crib unless I have moved into the realm of professional furniture finisher—i.e. Spray guns and lacquers.  It is actually quite cute—watch for pictures of my latest creative ventures. 

Anyway, in the midst of working with clients, making headboards, painting furniture, and dealing with the full moon this past week, we had some more “let’s break Greg’s stuff” drama.  Unfortunately, it’s still not funny to him…when’s he going to learn to laugh at all these mishaps? It started last weekend when Pierce came out of his bedroom and told us that the Nintendo DS was broken.  We didn’t really believe him, thinking it was a stalling tactic that he often employs at bedtime.  Later when I went in to check on the boys; sure enough, the DS was broken.  It seems that Mikey wanted to know how far he could open the lid.  When he found its maximum angle, he checked with all his might to see if that was it.  It was…he broke the hinge.  I was so mad.  What is that need to push the boundaries and find the breaking point?  He did that once with a baseball tee.  If I was mad, Dad was at his boiling point.

So that was Sunday…three days before the full moon, and our irritation was waxing along with that terribly beautiful orb.  Tuesday (one day before the apex), I was working with a client, and I get a text from Greg that the Xbox charging station for the controllers was broken. It looked fine, it just wouldn’t charge.  Great… I remembered that he had a dinner with some colleagues that evening, and wondered if there was any way I could be asleep before he got home.  He was ready to take all of his precious electronics and reclaim his bachelorhood.  I was ready for him to take all of his precious electronics, our precious boys, and let me reclaim my solitude.  Instead we did a lot of lecturing, shaming and restricting of technological fun times at our house this week.

Guess what the end result was?  The boys played outside while I worked in the garage!  Who knew?  Surely, they were allergic to the sun and would break out in terrible rashes from rolling around in our teeny slice of nature.  Nope, we even discovered that they have imaginations, albeit, sometimes dangerous ones, but still—a penchant for making up games!  Maybe I’’ll break some things and blame it on them, so that dad has a good excuse to ground them from video game play.  Then he’s the bad guy!  Everybody wins!  That’s my mission for this week.  Have a good one!

 

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