...for a different kind of girl

silent surburban girl releasing her voice, not yet knowing what all she wants to say about her life and the things that make it spin. do you have to be 18 to be here? you'll know when i know.

Sunday, November 09, 2008

'til now, i always got by on my own. except nope, not really.

When I got my first job out of college and moved to an apartment located a harrowing 26.4 miles away from my childhood home, my Mom and I devised a routine that let her know I was home safely. Each time I'd return to my apartment after leaving her house, I'd dial her number and let the phone ring three times - never fewer, never more - and then hang up. It was like the bat signal, minus the distressing undertones, dark lighting, and oddball villains wreaking havoc upon my suburban version of Gotham.

I realize it was perhaps silly that we had this routine, but it let my Mom know I was safe and, I'll admit, gave me comfort knowing someone was looking out for me, even if that someone was a harrowing 26.4 miles away.

"Wow, um, didn't you realize you were an adult now and perfectly capable of taking care of yourself?" you're probably muttering. Of course I realized that. However, I dare you to say that to the 22-year-old version of me who, while living alone for the first time in my life, once faced a tornado warning with no basement within which to retreat by standing in the stairwell of my apartment while sporting a bicycle helmet with one of my bed pillows strapped atop it to protect myself from structural collapse. I didn't know what else to do, and with no one around to suggest otherwise, I came up with a lame way to pacify myself. If I didn't live to edit the newspaper I worked for, at least I'd be a six-column photo on the front page with a cutline remarking on my ingenuity in the face of adversity.

Nearly 19 years later, I'm struck by how often this very ill-equipped version of myself rears its head to say "hey." If something requiring fixing happens in my life, I become a damsel in distress around my knight in a golf shirt emblazoned with the logo of a Major Tool Company. Don't believe how lame I can be? Let me remind you I've called my Tool Man home to unclog toilets in the middle of the day. I know! I promise you right now if he knew I've never changed a flat tire, he'd go outside, shank some rubber on the mini, and have me out there in the freezing cold jacking that thing up, laughing at me as I fumbled my way around the spare. Ultimately, he'd have to take over, and while working with tire changing tools (with names that suddenly escape me and I could ask Tool Man right now but he'd roll his eyes at me and I'm too tired to take that off of him right now), he'd lecture me about how a grown woman should be prepared to take care of herself.

How do I know he'd lecture me? Um, because he sort of did when I called him at 2:30 a.m., Wednesday to ask him what I should do because the carbon monoxide detector we have in our house was beeping like crazy. I had to call him, you see, because he was four hours away, and this problem he'd normally take care of were he at home had woken me up from an already fitful sleep more than an hour earlier. Before I'd chosen to call him, I'd wandered the house frantically, trying to determine if my next move was to keep my children either alive or asleep, while also trying to determine which of the six various smoke detectors and two carbon monoxide detectors had so rudely chosen to act up on me. This job, of course, required I go down into my basement. In the middle of the night. In the dark. Which is not awesome. Even if I had turned all the lights on in the house.

When I finally determined which was the offending device, I was afraid the house was filling with carbon monoxide (because the thing was beeping, but it wasn't beeping in the way it would were the battery low), and that great, just great, the boys and I wouldn't wake up in the morning.

So I started to cry.


I know.

Seriously. I was exhausted. I could once again see the newspaper headlines. I needed to be talked down from the ledge.

So I called Tool Man, who, as you might imagine when you are awakened by a phone call at 2:30 a.m., and answer to hear your wife sobbing on the other end, saying how sorry she was to be calling, was quite shaken. While attempting to calm me down, Tool Man talked me through things, determining through a series of calmly worded questions that there was nothing running in the house that would release carbon monoxide into the air, and suggesting I open a window if I still wasn't convinced things would be OK.

"But...this...damn...thing...won't...stop...beeping!" I cried. Literally. Because I was still crying.

"Honey," Tool Man whispered. "Turn it over and slide the battery cover off and yank the battery out. See? Simple!"

Ah, yes. It was simple. So simple I felt silly having woken up Tool Man to solve my dilemma. As I disconnected the device's 9-volt heart and tossed it across the bedroom, the carbon monoxide detector emitted a final beep and then fell silent. So did Tool Man and I from our distance of four hours. "Think you can get back to sleep and be OK now?" he finally asked. I said yes, but I was thinking no.

No, because I'm lame. Because I depend on my husband too much to take care of things I should be able to without him. Because I'm tired of him having to be gone so often. Because I'm tired.

So, I'm nearly 41 years old now and I really shouldn't be quite this lame. I don't know how to change a flat tire. I still sometimes call my Mom and let the telephone ring three times just so she knows things are OK, and I still plop on a bicycle helmet with a bed pillow strapped across the top in hopes that it will protect me. It's just that the helmet has morphed into Tool Man, and while I know he's happy to help me, inside he's got to be thinking, "Really? You can't just take the batteries out?"

But it was 2:30 in the morning and I - we - were tired.



Blogger Michelle W said...

Lame? Maybe? But not as lame as I am. I'd have called hubby, gotten the same advice, taken the battery out and then got the kids up and out anyway.
To where? I have no clue.

Sunday, November 09, 2008 11:24:00 PM  
Blogger Melissa said...

We had a two-ring system, but it worked just as well. It was important for my parents to know I got home safely, made me feel good to know there was a secret "made it!" code, and that someone was concerned that I did. That's love, baby, not dependence or "I can't do it on my own"-ness.

And a never-ending beeping? I'd be shaking Matt awake or calling him wherever he was for advice. You'd have gotten there on your own, but it's nice to know there's someone to call. And 2:30 in the morning or not, I bet Tool Man appreciated your call.

Sunday, November 09, 2008 11:24:00 PM  
Blogger PAPATV said...

I can't change tires either. Or change the oil in my car.

Guess who can? My dad.

Yet he "walked 4 miles to school, everyday."

Um, why?

Sunday, November 09, 2008 11:27:00 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

I'm the same way, so I guess that makes me lame, too. I once called M home from work bawling because G had stepped on a lightbulb and cut his foot. I saw spots as soon as I saw the blood and freaked out. I called him home, he cleaned G up, and it was just a scratch. A scratch. He still gives me crap about that.

Sunday, November 09, 2008 11:31:00 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

I did the "call and let it ring a couple times just so I know you're home" thing too. No shame in that. Everyone should be so grateful to have a mom that cares.

Same for needing your hubby. It might have been annoying to be woken up at 2:30am to help talk someone through removing a battery but I kinda thing husbands like helping the damsel in distress. No? Especially when they're thanked properly.

My hubby spent half the day on Friday removing spyware from my computer.(Which he works on for a living.) During which he made sure I knew he would normally get paid $75 an hour to do so. I told him I'd give him a BJ. He also accepts that currency.

Sunday, November 09, 2008 11:35:00 PM  
Blogger Therese in Heaven said...

It's okay to rely on your husband for some things. I think husbands like to feel that they can rescue their wives, even after years of marriage.

I do completely understand those awful feelings when you're home alone and exhausted. It's really miserable. I'm sorry he's gone so much!

Monday, November 10, 2008 12:08:00 AM  
Blogger Heather said...

If you're lame then that means I'm lame so don't be calling me lame.

You know you're husband feels all manly when you call him for things. I bet he really loves that. My husband is the one that does all that stuff too.

Plus he gets the icky bats out and only makes fun of me a little bit when I cry.

Monday, November 10, 2008 12:22:00 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

I used to do the 3 ring thing.

And my girlfriend did with her mum too.

And come to think of it my mum did it with her mum and her mum did smoke signals. Which is totally bad arse cause how hard would it to do 3 smoke rings in the air and no more? In a city.


So the three ring thing seems to be international.

Oh and you are not lame. I called MPS once while he was on air asking him to come and kill a spider. Bastard put me live on air freaking the hell out.

Monday, November 10, 2008 12:35:00 AM  
Blogger Summer Rose said...

I would do the same thing since I lived hour an half away from my late mom, I would call her tell her that I made it home safely. I sure do miss those times I had with her.

Yes I've done the same thing with hubby, our toilet broke in J's bathroom water was every where, I could not turn off the water spout he came home, and the handle broke off while he was trying to turn the water off to the toilet.

Monday, November 10, 2008 12:58:00 AM  
Blogger DKC said...

Definitely not lame. I am worse-case-scenario girl so the "I'm okay" system is a must.

Since neither my husband and I are what you would call "handy" I usually end up calling my Dad. Although not at 2:30am - he wouldn't like that!

Most of my calls to my husband when he's at work revolve around "how do I cook something?" Because he is a chef! And I am pathetic in the kitchen!

Monday, November 10, 2008 1:16:00 AM  
Blogger Southern Mountain Boy said...

Don't worry, sweetie. Men need to have a purpose, and protecting women is a GREAT purpose. Despite what he may say at the time, your Tool Man appreciates being your go-to guy.

Monday, November 10, 2008 2:02:00 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Um... I'd like to nominate Tattooed Minivan Mom's barter scenario as some kind of standardized practice for these situations. Because that seems entirely fair to me.

Monday, November 10, 2008 5:13:00 AM  
Blogger Bijoux said...

You sound very mature for your age, FADKOG. Because I've called Husband twice to come rescue me when I've had flat tires (he's too cheap to get AAA, so in theory, that's what he gets). I do feel guilty though, watching him change a tire in a suit and tie.

Monday, November 10, 2008 5:34:00 AM  
Blogger Vodka Mom said...

I like to think of my character flaws as "charms". You are NOT lame- you are charming.......

Monday, November 10, 2008 5:40:00 AM  
Blogger Chasity said...

I can't tell you how many times I've had problems with something electronic (my hubby fixes computers)and been so frustrated I want to throw the darn thing, only to have hubby calmly ask me a stupid question like, "Did you turn it on?"

I think he likes being my knight in shining armor,and who thinks to turn that stuff on (or remove the batteries), anyway?

Monday, November 10, 2008 6:30:00 AM  
Blogger Unknown said...

Don't do yourself down! Anybody who faces a hurricane wearing a bicycle helmet and a pillow has a lot going for them!

& we all flounder at some things. I still run away shrieking from credit card statements.

Monday, November 10, 2008 8:44:00 AM  
Blogger Desmond Jones said...

You know, I'll echo the folks above on the 'husbands like to feel needed' response. That 'knight-in-shining-armor' role just warms our husband-ly hearts. And it warms my heart to have you tell the story.

Still leaves me wondering what caused the damn thing to go off, tho. . .

And listen - the bicycle helmet was probably sufficient; I doubt the pillow gave you much added 'protection'. Altho, it's not nearly so funny a story without it. . .

And hey, my Word Verification is 'urable'. So, there you have it; and I'm sure you are. . .

Monday, November 10, 2008 8:56:00 AM  
Blogger Kat said...

Well if you are lame than I am too. I call my husband for every little thing that goes wrong and then I also call my mom for her take on the situation, ya know, just in case he is wrong. I mean, she does have 20 years of experience more than him right?

Monday, November 10, 2008 9:24:00 AM  
Blogger Kim said...

I can't change a tire and I have never cut the grass. And I don't want to. I want my tombstone to say, "She was a great wife and mother. She died never having cut the grass. Ev-ah!" Oh, and if my carbon monoxide detector was beeping, I would have had all three kids outside and been on the cell phone with 911. At least you were able to figure out it was a battery issue, even if that required a phone call first!

Monday, November 10, 2008 9:37:00 AM  
Blogger The Stiletto Mom said...

I had the same system with my mom, only she would always pick up the phone even though she wasn't supposed to and then we would start yet another 1 hour conversation. :)

I am pathetic around the house. Can't fix anything, freak out at bugs (oh, and we were invaded by LIZARDS this summer...shudder..., car problems make me cry. I think we are all cut from the same cloth as mothers, we care for those who depend on us but we need to be cared for as well.

PS? I adore that you had a bike helmet on with a pillow on top..the visual was awesome!

Monday, November 10, 2008 9:40:00 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Three years ago the hubs was out of town and I decided to light a fire in the fireplace, but never having done so by myself (in the EIGHT years we'd lived in this house) I forgot to check the flue first, which it turns out, was shut tight, which I realized when the smoke started billowing into the house at an alarming rate. And when I say "alarming," I mean that literally, because both smoke alarms went off simultaneously. It was obnoxiously loud and caused me to panic, and I ended up breaking them both by bashing them with a broom handle just. To. Make. That. Awful. Noise. STOP.

The hubs came home to two broken smoke detectors and a soggy fireplace, still wet from the water I finally poured over the logs to put the fire out.

So what I'm trying to say is, yeah. I know how it feels to be clueless.

Monday, November 10, 2008 9:51:00 AM  
Blogger FTN said...

I'm kind of wondering what the point is of having a bunch of carbon monoxide detectors, if when they go off, you just want to figure out how to get it to shut up so you can get some sleep.

I get phone calls like this from my wife. When I'm out of town, she calls her Dad. It makes me kind of insecure, though, to have that kind of competition for Knight In Shining Khaki.

Monday, November 10, 2008 10:09:00 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Personally you are genius for putting on the helmet. Protect your head first and foremost.

As far as the batteries go. Ah fuck it. Bet Tool Man can't make a kick ass gingerbread house.

Monday, November 10, 2008 10:32:00 AM  
Blogger Swirl Girl said...

We had the three ring rule as well.

But I can change a battery in the smoke detector, reset the timers on the lights when they go wonky, and change a tire.

I just don't kill bugs...that's what men are for.

Monday, November 10, 2008 11:32:00 AM  
Blogger Christina Lee said...

Aww don't be too hard on yourself! Is Tool Man able to multi-task? That's what I've got on my hubby every time....

Monday, November 10, 2008 1:38:00 PM  
Blogger Ali said...

my husband *wishes* i would depend on him like that. i went to boarding school at age 14...and had kind of nonexistent parents before that...so i learned to do everything on my own and NEVER ask for help. i wish i was more like you!!!!!!!

Monday, November 10, 2008 1:47:00 PM  
Blogger kaila said...

Ditto on the three ring thing. I once had to call the Oilybeauhunk because the invisible dog fence was making a horrible noise. All I had to do was unplug it, but I was too panicked about the dogs getting electrified or something to think about simply pulling the plug

Monday, November 10, 2008 2:02:00 PM  
Blogger Eternal Sunshine said...

This morning, I got up to go to the bathroom, and immediately headed back to the bedroom and sat down until Budman got up and went to take care of the GIANT spider that was in the bathroom floor.

Only he didn't kill it, he put it in a cup, until I threw a giant hissy fit...


Monday, November 10, 2008 2:15:00 PM  
Blogger steenky bee said...

I think I was a huge billboard for false advertising for my husband. I was extremely independent and self-reliant. Now? I gag when the cat pukes, I don't unclog the toilets, I forgot how to use the car wash and I don't even know how to deposit money into my own checking account. When I went to the bank last week, they actually made me show ID over and over because I knew nothing about my account. I had to look my number up on a piece of paper. I was all, "Look, I'm putting money in, not taking it out". I'm addicted to my husband. I'm convinced it's been a long, nine year plan of his to seduce me into needing and loving him. He'll run off with the kids in about two years. I won't know our bank account numbers or how to light the pilot light. I'll be cold and penniless.

Monday, November 10, 2008 2:42:00 PM  
Blogger CT Mom said...

I get it. I'm totally helpless when it comes to anything electronic or with the house, yard, or any of those things I deem man territory. I panic when G travels cuz what if the wireless network goes down? What is that strange beeping? Why are there bugs flying up out of the lawn? I had a total meltdown before he left for his last trip, because I didn't know how to reboot the wireless router.

I know, I know ...

Monday, November 10, 2008 4:57:00 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Once again, a visit to your blog pays off BIG. I should totally just be wearing a helmet at all times.

Monday, November 10, 2008 5:05:00 PM  
Blogger Me said...

My mom still has me call when I leave her house to make sure I got home okay. It's just something we all do. If you're lame, then so am I.

Monday, November 10, 2008 6:43:00 PM  
Blogger Heather said...

What was wrong with the detector?

Monday, November 10, 2008 6:56:00 PM  
Blogger Meg said...

Nothing wrong with a little division of labor. Relationships are, after all, inter-dependent.

Monday, November 10, 2008 7:05:00 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

I think it sounds like you had a really great support system in place growing up, and you still have a great support circle. And that is nothing to be ashamed of. Just a testament to your all-around lovableness!

Anyway, not everyone can be mechanical. My husband sure isn't. ;)

Monday, November 10, 2008 7:09:00 PM  
Blogger Bee said...

I don't think you're lame.

Pne time I was watching my 3 year old niece while my sister went shopping. We were playing blocks on the floor, she on her knees me me on my butt we were fine everything was groovy until... she slipped and hit her mouth on one of the blocks. I, the person who can stand her own with the most ferocious lawyers, lost it when I saw blood.

Who did I call? My mommy.

She was okay and had cut her little gums but me? I was shaking and about to throw up.

Monday, November 10, 2008 7:33:00 PM  
Blogger Backpacking Dad said...

Great. Now I need to get a carbon monoxide detector.

Monday, November 10, 2008 7:42:00 PM  
Blogger motherbumper said...

I can be as helpless as a kitten, and strong as bull, and distracted like...

wtf was I talking about? Oh yes, dependence and how it kicks my non-existent nuts more often than I like to admit. But I do have nuts, and so do you, it's just the nuts like company and validation sometimes. And I just reread what I wrote and it barely makes sense but I'll fill in the word verification ANYWAYS.

Monday, November 10, 2008 8:23:00 PM  
Blogger graham's mom said...

Can I tell you? This exact same thing happened at our house recently, except both J and I were home and it was the middle of the night, so we both had to stumble around trying to identify where the awful beeping was coming from, and then our carbon monoxide detector is a plug-in/battery hybrid but the fact that it was plugged in did not stop it from notifying us that the battery was dead and the THING KEPT BEEPING even when we took the battery out, and then finally J wrapped it in a towel and put it in the oven. The next morning I suggested that perhaps the refrigerator would have been a more noise-deadening option.

Monday, November 10, 2008 9:06:00 PM  
Blogger kimmyk said...

i dont know how to change a tire either if that makes you feel better.

and i bet you totally rocked the bike helmet!

and batteries in smoke detectors etc? yeah. i can't reach the detectors in my house. every night when i cook the smoke alarm goes off and i have to wave a towel in the air like some retard jumping up and down in a fit cause my dogs run around outside barking like loons cause the beeping is driving them bonkers.

you are not alone....

Monday, November 10, 2008 9:25:00 PM  
Blogger Seriously Brenda said...

I'm with Steenky - I used to be fiercly independant until I got married. Now when he travels, I'm all like what? I have to take the garbage can down to the curb and bring it back again?

I like that he and I are a team. Sounds like you've got yourself a pretty good one too!

Oh and my CAPTCHA word - ciscon

Now I have that damn thong song in my head again. AAACK!

Monday, November 10, 2008 10:47:00 PM  
Blogger The Savage said...

You are so cute....

Tuesday, November 11, 2008 4:47:00 AM  
Blogger Bogart said...

Well, it is good to know this marriage will make it...I don't know that it is even an option since you would probably just spend all your days curled up in the fetal position.

Tuesday, November 11, 2008 6:56:00 AM  
Blogger Mandy said...

We've had the same problem with our CO monitor. It goes through batteries progressively faster, so now, it's permanently unplugged. And I still obsess about my family dying from CO fumes, while the alarm languishes, unplugged and de-batteried on the kitchen counter.

Tuesday, November 11, 2008 9:46:00 AM  
Blogger Brian o vretanos said...

I didn't know how to change a tyre... until I had to one day. It took me forever. I'm not sure that men are naturally any better at these things than women - it's just that we've got no-one to call.

Tuesday, November 11, 2008 2:04:00 PM  
Blogger Kevin McKeever said...

I'm as old as you and I still call my parents to let them know we arrived some place on a trip. Cuts down on their heart medication bills.

Tuesday, November 11, 2008 2:38:00 PM  
Blogger Roaming With A Hungry Heart said...

I seriously wonder how anyone expects an average women to change a tire. I technically know how to do it thanks to my dad's teaching, but having the necessary muscles to actually loosen the lugnuts (yeah I know what those are called), not even close.

My dad was the all-around do everything guy. Great with cars and all house repairs. I sometimes forget that all men (my husband included) are not simply born that way.

I'm currently painting part of our house, by myself, bc DH is a horrible painter.

But he is good at killing bugs.

Tuesday, November 11, 2008 3:26:00 PM  
Blogger Tuesday Girl said...

I am the same way, i rely on my husband too much and now that he is not here all week, I have t do them myself.

I still hate that I have to though!

Tuesday, November 11, 2008 6:33:00 PM  
Blogger Bekah said...

I had a similar system to let my first real boyfriend know that i was home safely, but APPARENTLY it didnt work, and he was our driving around until 4 in the morning looking for the smoking wreckage of my vehicle. I was home asleep. oops. it happens. Oh...and i am pretrified of carbon monoxide...it scares me. SILENT KILLER SILENT KILLER! i once slept with my face pressed against the open window in the dead of winter because i was afraid. I was fine...just really really cold.

Tuesday, November 11, 2008 11:07:00 PM  
Blogger Zip n Tizzy said...

I love this post!
I love the image of you in your bicycle helmet and pillow in the stairwell, and your touching relationship with your man.
I'm sorry he has to be gone so much, but you both are clearly quite a dynamic duo.

Tuesday, November 11, 2008 11:23:00 PM  
Blogger Sherendipity said...

Lame or not, I'm a little jealous. I think it's awesome that you have that relationship with both your Mom, and your Tool Man.
Sounds like they both love you very much.

Wednesday, November 12, 2008 6:58:00 AM  
Blogger for a different kind of girl said...

I'm coming back to these, and I mean it this time, because I know I've said it before and then, sheesh, life, you know? But I swear to you with pinkies and blood and whatever else is necessary, that I'm coming back to these comments. However, now I gotta go spend some time with my lovah, Target, who called earlier and was all, "We haven't seen you in a long time, baby. We miss you. We have toys on sale! Come see us! We'll let you peek at our clearance items!"

So how can I resist?

Wednesday, November 12, 2008 10:18:00 AM  
Blogger Biscuit said...

nah...he likes being your hero. All guys do.

Wednesday, November 12, 2008 12:25:00 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

You are not alone. I rely on my husband and also my mom and dad for everything. But that really is what your husband is there for. That's his function in your team dynamic. It's his job to go down in the basement and change tires and stuff. Just like it's my husband's job to battle raccoons when they invade our house. That's why I locked the bedroom door behind him.

Also, why do those damn detectors only start beeping in the middle of the night. Do you notice that they never beep in the daytime? It may be some sort of government conspiracy.

Wednesday, November 12, 2008 2:08:00 PM  
Blogger for a different kind of girl said...

Michelle - I laid awake for a long time after the batteries were removed and pondered taking the kids out, but I was in the same "but where?" boat.

Melissa - Tool Man gave me a good natured bad time when he got home, but yep, calling him was just like had he been home to take care of it!

papa - I can't change my car's oil, but I can check it. That's one thing my Dad taught me, just after he taught me how to parallel park.

sammanthia - I think if we call them our heroes, our husbands will solve any and all problems.

tattooedminivanmom - I should make up coupons for that for Tool Man to cash in when I call him in for help!

therese - I think it's fair to say you, me and Tool Man are all sorry he's gone so much!

heather - I get the impression after reading the comments here that we're totally not lame afterall!

kelley - It wouldn't surprise me if there were cave drawings indicated the longevity of the three rings!

Summer - Cripes, if the toilets broke in our house, I'd be in a world of hurt!

dcd - A chef? What you've just described is a dream!

No one - I think this kind of think was defintely in our wedding vows!

twobusy - Men would be going around loosening screws and creating problems just for that kind of payoff!

cocotte - After writing this, I thought about actually testing Tool Man's skills at changing a flat, because, knock on wood, we've been lucky.

vodka mom - Oh, I do like charming!

chas - Sometimes Tool Man just solves my problems by asking if I checked on top of my head or inside the refrigerator!

chris - I wrap myself up in bubble wrap when the credit card statements arrive.

Des - The pleasant fact that, nearly a week later, we're all still alive, leads me to believe it was just the battery, even though it wasn't signaling as such.

kat - I'm totally one to call my mom for opinions before I act on some things, despite my age.

kimandco - I've cut the grass. A lot. I just don't like to. Not one bit!

stiletto mom - The day I walk into my house and have lizard(s) is the day I move out. I swear to you!

bejewell - The only thing Tool Man has ever warned me was never, ever start a fire in the fireplace. When I asked if I could light the candles I have in there now, he put the kabosh on that, too!

ftn - If I had your number, I would call you at 2:30 a.m. Just to talk. :)

dc urban dude - Oh, I guaran-damn-tee you Tool Man couldn't rock the gingerbreak house business! I'll probably never be able to again either, though...

swirl girl - Sometimes I just pretend I don't see the bugs. Then I lay awake waiting for the inevitable creepy crawly feeling!

christina lee - Tool Man WISHES he could mutlitask like I can!

ali - Honey, I think you are far, far cooler than I could ever dream to be!

kaila - I had ZERO idea that electric dog fences even made noise. Yet another reason why it's probably good we don't have a dog!

ES - I retract the earlier statement about ignoring bugs. If I got up and found one waiting in my bathroom, I'd do exactly what you did, too!

steenky bee - You won't be alone. You'll have me and our unholy union. Alas, I'm afraid I cannot promise you you will not be cold and/or penniless at that time. :)

ct mom - Oh, honey, I have called Tool Man, too, asking him which chord I have to yank to get the router to work again. I am so on your team!

Wednesday, November 12, 2008 8:56:00 PM  
Blogger for a different kind of girl said...

waltzinexhile - The troubling part of my confession is now I don't even know where my bike helmet is!

wethyb - We're lame and yet so very, very cool!

heather - I'm going on the assumption it was, indeed, the battery, which I should have replaced by now, but, yeah, haven't...

prefers - I sometimes wonder how equitable Tool Man finds that division!

weirdgirl - What Tool Man lacks in basic home repair skills he makes up for in battery knowledge!

bee - What you have described is why I make (ahem - Let) Tool Man handle the bulk of all bodily fluid problems that arise!

bp dad - You know what I think.
Especially important now! :)

motherbumper - All I have to say to you is how much I love you, which is lots. Lots and lots.

graham's mom - I was afraid my one CO detector wouldn't stop beeping after removing the battery, and then I figured I was so totally screwed, so let me just say, in all honesty, that you two are geniuses!

kimmy - I can't reach any of our smoke detectors, either. They are also cemented to our walls - or so it seems - so that makes them even more annoying.

seriously mama - Dude, you have a frickin' GHOST in your house! I'd never want to be alone in that place, let alone taking the trash down! ;)

savage - In that whole "damsel in distress" mode, right? ;)

bogart - Spending my days curled up in the fetal position would at least allow me to catch up on some sleep. Then I could go conquer the things I am pretty capable of doing!

mandy - My own has been on my bedroom dresser for the past week. I hope I'm just as lucky without it as I have been with until such time as I get a new battery (which will be soon...)

brian - I honestly wouldn't even know how to begin. My luck, my cell phone would be dead at the same time, too!

always home - You're a good man.

tulipsanticipation - Last time Tool Man and I painted anything, we ended up pregnant with our youngest son. The two things don't go hand-in-hand, but let's say Tool Man isn't the best painter, so, in order to tackle the job myself, I had to distract him. :)

tuesday girl - I understand completely!

bekah - It was freezing as I slept in my room with the window open last week, because I'm as afraid of CO2, too. And when it started to thunder and lightening and then pour? Yeah. Awesome.

zip n tizzy - Tool Man is very much my Batman!

sherendipity - Oh, believe me. My mom loves me, but she drives me as equally crazy!

FADKOG - Good to see you're a woman of your word...

biscuit - When I call him that, it makes him blush! :)

blissfully - SERIOUSLY!! I have never, ever had any kind of alarm beep at me during daylight hours! It's always been in the midst of some great R.E.M.s

Wednesday, November 12, 2008 9:13:00 PM  
Blogger Unknown said...

ok. so i totally started crying and laughing. because this is exactly how things will be with my guy. once we solve the 1,000 mile distance problem. *sigh*

Thursday, November 13, 2008 3:08:00 PM  
Blogger for a different kind of girl said...

zeghsy - One thousand miles!? I should never complain about four hours distance again!

Thursday, November 13, 2008 4:37:00 PM  
Blogger Chibi said...

First off, I still call my mom after I commute to work if there is snow on the roads to let her know I'm okay. I'll be 31 in April. *blush*

Secondly, there was a day that Mom was home allllll alone and this crazy beeping noise started. Much like you, she ventured high and low, up and down, trying to determine where the blasted noise was coming from. Eventually she determined that it was the smoke detector.

Because we're "blessed" with the short gene and even a kitchen chair didn't give her enough height to properly grasp said smoke detector (and because she's deathly afraid of heights -- yes, 2.5 feet off the ground is considered "heights" to Mom *wink), she stood on her tippy toes, stretched her arms as far as she could, grasped the edge of the smoke detector with the tips of her fingernails, and YANKED that sucker clear out of the ceiling, wires and all. :O

Guess what? The beeping did not stop. Seems it was the carbon monoxide detector. The one mere inches above the floor, requiring no chairs, tippy toes, outstretched arms, or torn wires. The one that is almost directly below the smoke detector.

Step-Dad just shook his head when he got home.

Friday, November 14, 2008 4:50:00 PM  

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