It's not about the house.

Sunday, August 26, 2007

Gone Swimmin'

Here's what we did yesterday:


And then


And a little bit of


And then went swimming!

Here's why:

First of all, the Kid called on Friday night to say that he would be here in the morning to put the furnace in the basement. Probably not install it, but just bring it in. It's big, and it's heavy, and he said he'd need four Big Strong Guys to get it down there: himself and his helper, Johnny and -- could we provide another Guy?

(There was a time this sort of thing would have got my Paglias all in a twist, but #1. I've decided it's kind of nice not to be expected to help out with dirty, heavy stuff, and #2. my back hurts.)

But this was eight o'clock on Friday evening, and were talking about 9:00 or so Saturday morning. Johnny was up at the pub. Who was I going to call -- who was going to be home right now and free tomorrow -- to ask them to report in twelve hours for heavy, dirty work?

I called Andy. Good old Andy. I caught him in his car on his way home, and I think he'd had a few, so I really didn't want to keep him on the phone. Best use all available brain cells for driving, Andy, even if I really wish you weren't doing that. I nutshelled the situation for him.

Well, first he misunderstood. When I said "put the furnace in the basement" he thought I meant install it. When we cleared that up, he told me we didn't need four guys and what was the Kid's phone number, he'd set him straight. No, no, Andy. Thank you, but that's all right. Can you help us, though?

Nope. Had to help Mom.


There were three other Guys I thought to call. Both George and Chris would come, I knew, but they both have kids and it just felt wrong to ask them on such short notice. Then there was John B.

You remember John B. -- the one that bit the head of the asshole neighbor guy when they were back in high school? He's a nice guy (despite the fact that he once bit someone on the head), but Johnny says that he's afraid of me because I'm a Big Strong Woman (did I mention this is a 6'2" bear of a man who once bit someone's head?). He doesn't talk to me when he telephones for Johnny, doesn't stay to chat if he stops by and Johnny isn't home -- he recently lent us a roller and wanted to leave it in the car rather than bring it to the door and hand it to me -- but he does sometimes bring me presents. A patriots doo-dad, a six-pack of IPA. I was pretty sure John B. would help if Johnny asked him, but I didn't know what he'd do if I should be the one to make the call. Besides shit himself, that is. So I waited for Johnny to come home.

John B. was busy, too. Or else just a big old fraidy-bear.

So Johnny and I made the executive decision that four Big Guys wouldn't fit on the cellar stairs all at the same time, anyway, and if some extra hands were needed, I was capable of helping out even if I am a Little Girl. So we went to bed, resolving to tell Kid when he called at 9:00 just to come on over.

Ahem: when he called at 9:00...

We waited, but he didn't call until 11:30, and then to say that he was just finishing up a job and would be right over. So we waited.

We waited, and at 2:00 the Hills called to invite us to go swimming in their pool. We said we yay but that we couldn't leave until the Kid showed up. I considered throwing Johnny under the bus and splashing in without him, leaving him behind to meet the Kid -- but that felt mean, and so I waited.

We waited, and Kid called at 3:00 to say he'd only finished, he was just going to have a wash and he'd be here. And so we waited.

We waited, and we called him at 4:45 to say we're going out, don't bother, but he swore he would be here in twenty minutes. So we waited.

We waited, and at 5:25, we left. Put a note on the door saying "Gone Swimming" and took off.

It wasn't even hot anymore by the time we jumped in the pool, but jump we did. When we got home there was a note from him, saying he'd taken some measurements and he was sure that it would fit, saying he was sorry for making us wait like that, saying he'd be calling us tomorrow. Not that measurements were ever a question, really. Not that I hadn't already taken them and told him so. Not that there was any reason for him to have come over yesterday at all if he wasn't going to actually bring the furnace in the house. Not that he could have done that by whatever time he did show up, because we had gone swimming.

And here we are today, Sunday, waiting for him to call. It's 12:59 p.m., and there's no word yet.

We're giving him another hour...

And then we're going swimming.

No comments: