The husband just called from contruction central (aka my house) – he was calling to ask where the ethernet connections were supposed to go (see how well he’s learning that my wireless connection is a top priority?) and I hear screeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeechhhh in the background.
Me: Do I even want to know?
Him: It’s crazy – there are at least thirty people here. They’re cutting through the back wall of the house as we speak. And did I mention they had to completely tear out the bathroom upstairs?
Me: (wonders why he sounds so happy and remembers: men = demolition=happiness) So, when you say completely, you mean…
Him: Gutted. Gone. As in, I can look upstairs and see right through the floor. Because there is no more floor.
Me: (wonders how we could be together the whole weekend and him not mention that.) Um, okay. But I thought that bathroom was staying.
Him: So did I. But there was a small problem. Something about support issues.
Me: What kind of support issues?
Him: I guess, there was none. Meaning the whole floor could’ve collapsed if they didn’t do something about it.
Me: I’m hanging up now.