The weather hasn't been so great here this weekend.
So instead of doing the beach, we just "did stuff around the house". This means my husband sat on the couch and watched TV all weekend and I did projects.
Stuff like hanging a new towel rack, assembling a piece of furniture, installing shelves and rearranging electronics in two rooms...it seems like I did some other stuff too.
Oh, yeah. I cleaned the house, did the shopping and the laundry, cooked meals, etc.
I really don't begrudge my husband the time he spent sitting on his you-know-what. I can't stand doing that for very long. I have to have something to do, to keep me busy.
Lately it seems like it's one project after another. my house is looking really good, but I fear I may be turning into my mother.
Holy shit, right after I typed that, I turned around and said something my mother said to me countless times.
My son was saying "doggy, kitty cat, doggy, kitty cat..." ad nauseum.
I said, "You have a cat. When you are old enough to feed a dog and pick up the dog poop, you might get a doggy. And if you don't take care of it, it's going to the pound."
I can't remember how many times I heard that last bit about my first dog, named Hurricane.
He never did go to the pound though...