Evan, ruefully, to his sister Amy: "You get to walk to the mall from school. I get to eat ice cream on the track."
Our Delta kitchen faucet has been dripping for weeks..er, months. Each drip is the resounding echo of money going down the drain. It is also environmentally irresponsible. Our fix was to put a sponge under the drip so the sink would quit imitating a bass drum. I dreaded replacing the washers but finally decided to do it only to find that mineralization had frozen the screw which holds the hand to the faucet so tightly that I thought I’d break the handle getting it off. I soaked it in vinegar for days and, eventually, it broke free. That’s when I discovered you cannot replace the washers. Delta uses a cartridge which you can from Amazon for $20 or HomeDepot for $25ish. When I went to HomeDepot, the kind salesperson suggested that I contact Delta because they warranty these things. Sure enough, I called Delta today and in under 3 minutes a free replacement cartridge is on its way. In 7-10 days, our drip will be repaired. I cannot believe I put this repair off so long!
I’ve jumped the shark.
Me: “Do we have an Xbox one?”
Noah, 20 years old, flatly: “No.”
Wife: "Your tent just rolled across the yard and it’s still rolling."
Me: "Who threw clothes on the stairs? I need to strangle a child."
My 14 year old daughter: "I’ll be right down!"
Me, to myself: "I don’t think she understood what I said."
My wife: "The squirrels are eating my bush. Would you check on it for me?"
Me: *blink* *blink* "Yes dear."
Mother: "Do you know you’re driving me crazy?"
11 year old boy: "Now I do!"
Me: "Goddammit, quit stepping on the cats!"
(Probably not the most constructive statement in the moment)
After 16 years, I have finally figured out when I can and cannot ask my wife for a special dates. Data is beautiful!
Context: Evan, our 11 year old, helped me drop one of the cats off at the veterinarian for a comprehensive exam last Wednesday. Behind the scale is this sign. Recently, both our 12 year old and 9 year old German Shepherds died.
Evan, 11 years old, studies the sign: "Dad, I think our next dog should be a three, four, or five."
Me: "Evan, that’s not a menu."
Me: "Alexa, play the Ramones."
Groggy 11 year old Evan walks into the room: "Dad, could you turn down the music?"
Me: "What are you guys doing?"
My house doesn’t have a dinner bell; it has a dinner text message.
Once upon a time, I bought a triangle to ring to bring the children home from playing in the neighborhood…I wasn’t ever allowed to use it 🙂
Cathy: "You’ve managed to redneck your whiskey!"