Home improvement and burka wearing with Roy
I’m at the dentist with Moonshine and as you know, the dentist is my favorite place to blog.
I’ve had a contractor in my house for the past week. Did I tell you how my upstairs shower leaked into my downstairs bathroom and the ceiling caved in? #firstworldproblems No? Well, it did. It was right before my whole family came in for Sunshine’s graduation. It was a mess. Thankfully, we could still use everything but the shower upstairs, but six of us in one shower downstairs. Well, you know what I mean.
I told my landlord I could help with fixing it because it was just the caulking and shower faucet, but I think he might be getting it into selling shape, which terrifies me, because he had it completely gutted and it’s going to be beautiful. Twelve inch tiles in the shower, matching on the floor, a new toilet, and double sinks. It’s not even the bathroom I use and I’m beyond thrilled.
Have you ever seen tile over tile?
Cue Roy. Roy is the contractor they hired to fix it and he’s been a permanent fixture in my house since last Tuesday. He showed up like a birthday present and started just working on my house. He really is a dream come true except he gives me the creeps.
I’m sure he’s very nice and it has to be an odd situation to come in and have to work in a strange house with strange people who keep asking him if he wants water or if he’s hungry. Maybe my hospitality is getting the best of me and I just need to leave him alone.
And I’m so incredibly thankful I’m able to work from home because while I would probably be fine leaving him alone as I have nothing to steal, I’m not fine leaving him alone with my kids. And as nice as he seems, I think he looks at my 15yo a little too long. He asked her how old she was and told her he thought she was much older. I might be overly sensitive to it though because of the stares she gets when she goes in public. Like the security guard at the grocery store or the bagger. I wish burkas were more popular here.
Anyway, I’m just ready for him to be done so I can go back to the office and talk to real, adult people. And a quick word about that. A while back I talked about my boss Helga and her giving me parenting advice. One Thursday she went for a blood test and then never came back. She went on medical leave weeks ago and we just found out it’s really bad. And I feel awful. Not because I didn’t appreciate her parenting advice but because cancer is so cruel.
And then I make it all about me because she has her boyfriend’s family to take care of her and I’m going to die alone. In all seriousness, if you’re the praying kind, throw one out for Helga that she either gets better or it’s quick because if watching my dad die taught me anything, it’s that you don’t want to linger. Deep thoughts by Christy D.
Stop looking at my puss, Roy!!