I'M SO GLAD IT WASN'T ME.........

I admit it, sometimes I do really dumb things.  And our spousal relationship is probably quite typical in that my husband gets really annoyed when I do those dumb things,  and doesn't mind telling me how really dumb it was of me to do it.  Dumb things like dropping a one-of-a-kind irreplaceable heirloom spoon down a revved up garbage disposal.  Or hearing the lawn mower make a strange metallic grinding sound and looking down to see pieces of his favorite screw driver spewing across the newly mowed lawn.  The screw driver that was left on the lawn after using it to frantically pry the fender back in place after the  lawn mower was backed into the side of the shed.  You really thought he wouldn't find out about that, didn't you Midge?

But every once in a while......every once in a blue moon.........that one time when pigs fly, Paul does something really stupid.  It is that time when I can shout hallelujah and say to myself  "I am SO glad it wasn't me".  Yeah.  That does feel good. 

We have been having a marathon paint session.  Something we never would be able to accomplish if we weren't both retired.  We started with the dining room. It needed it but when we finished it looked beautiful.  So beautiful that the front hall next to it looked like a slum in comparison.  So it was on to the hall.  We have wanted to install wainscoting in the hall and up the stairs for over 30 years.  We decided we might as well do it now as long as we have the paint out.  So we hired a very nice person to do it for us.  He came and went and then it was on to the painting for us.  Paul spent several days patching all the old nail holes etc in the wall and repairing spots where nails holding the sheet rock had come loose.  He patched and sanded and painted.  It looked beautiful.  He spent a day just admiring his work before we continued on to paint the wainscoting.  I began at the bottom of the stairs.  He told me he was going to go to the top of the stairs and move the step ladder.  The BIG step ladder.  No, he doesn't need help.  Of course not.  He can handle it.  I hear him shuffling and grunting as he's moving it around.  The grunting is suddenly broken by the most god-awful crash down the stairs.  My heart stopped.  Mostly because Paul still thinks he has the agility of a 20 year old and it has been getting him in trouble lately.  Most recently when he broke one of his poor little ribs by trying to leap over a picnic table in a single bound.   Yes, he still thinks he is faster than a speeding bullet. 

The silence was broken and my fears were allayed by the string of strong language that came rolling down the stairs.  (Did you know that our dear Lord and Savior Jesus Christ has a middle initial in Paul's world......"H"?  ALWAYS.  How did THAT come about).  So I heard him addressing the Savior, a few other choice words and then I heard him say "I just put a --- ---- hole in the ------- wall with this ------- ladder."  

OH BOY.........He sure did.  Yup.  Dropped the ladder right down the stairs and into the wall.  Slipped right out of his hands.  OUCH.  All those hours of beautiful work and then this happens.

Oh Oh Oh.........All I can say is "I am SO glad that it wasn't me who did it".   It was one of those rare moments.  I can almost see the pigs fly.