So I now have absolute, irrefutable proof that any silver spoon once residing in my mouth (which would have been years and years and years ago anyway) is long since tarnished, bent and tossed to the bottom of the junk drawer.
Because I am wildly excited about a big purchase being delivered today.
It is going to change my life.
What is it, you ask? A car, a boat?
Plane tickets to a lavish and remote destination?
No, you silly thing, it’s a shed.
Yes, you heard me right, a shed. Like a little house in your yard that holds your lawn mower and stuff.
We had a garage, you see, but it was torn down in favor of a (killer) kitchen and sitting room. (Wouldn’t trade them for a dusty garage.) But that addition didn’t leave too much extra money for, well, anything.
Rather, it opened up a whole new list of expenses…and yessiree, I’d rather have my dining room curtains than a shed. And furniture for the cute sitting room. And, kind of, food on the table. Sheds cost thousands of dollars…did you know that? I didn’t, and when I learned it, the shed got pushed to the bottom of the list.
But finally, Whit got fed up with me and ordered a shed. With a window box, as a little nod to me.
I complained. I had a zillion other things to spend money on. But since he earns it, he kind of holds the trump card, which he never plays, but he did, and the trump card was a shed.
Once it was ordered, though, I got so excited.
No more bikes in the house! Woo hoo! No more weed whacker in the closet. No more paying the (slightly unreliable) neighbor kid to mow our lawn. No more storing chemicals next to crackers (okay, kidding, but we really do put a lot of crap inside).
So it’s coming today. Our yard is marked with little flags and I’m so excited that I may just pour myself a margarita and sit on the patio and watch them build it. (And maybe they’ll be young and cute. Ooooh, and shirtless, since it’s so hot. But okay, that’s a tangent.)
It’s not just me. The kids are calling it Shed Day. My neighbor, who can really crack me up, emailed me that she can’t wait to meet the new shed. Maybe she’s funny, maybe she’s sick of the back yard looking like a yard sale.
And guess what? It’s big. I could hide in it when the kids drive me crazy. I could send Whit out there when he drives me crazy. My in-laws could SLEEP out there!! (Totally kidding, we know you like hotels. Go figure.)
Ah, it’s the first day of the rest of my life.
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