I'm going to say it. I think contractors or any type of construction people who are working really hard like that should get paid double. The Thaynster and I have been laying tile, grouting, caulking, sanding, vacuuming, and working our little tails off to get this house of ours on board. I'll admit it. Sometime I go psycho and I can't handle one more night covered in cement. I'm sick of coughing up dust and having white boogers. The house is coming together beautifully (mostly thanks to our amazing family members who have been helping us out), but sometimes it's just too much...
and I get weird. Or grumpy. Usually grumpy and sleepy combo. My poor, sweet, innocent husband. All he wants to do it be a construction man and build us a lovely home in which we can live. But I'll start to mope, or sigh really loud, or force a "deep" conversation with him just so I can feel like a human being again all disgusting around midnight every night. It's taken a few weeks, but we've found the perfect solution:
Behold! The secret to our marriage. I say, "Honey, I'm so TIRED and my back hurts from crouching down sanding baseboard and now I'm hungry...do you think I'm fat? How 'bout we take a little break....(sigh), I with this thing was finished already! OO! I found a rug that would be PERFECT in the living room...how do you think our marriage is...my hands HURT, OW a sliver!" And all he hears is the teacher from Charlie Brown. "Wa waa waaa wa waa." Every once in a while he'll throw me a bone. He'll nod, smile, and say "I love you honey and I love working on our house with you." At just like that, everything is well in the Davis universe.
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