Hands up if you've ever worked yourself up into a big ol' DIY hissy fit trying to finish a project, doing, as my friend Deb says, your best impersonation of the dog from the movie Up? (Do you still say impersonation if it's a dog impression?) Oh, look. Everyone's hand is up. What's that? You, up in the back? Two hands up, huh? Oh, I know, my dear, just calm yourself and get those narcotics like I suggested in my last stair post and life will be grand!
Da Hubbs has begun offering little impromptu DIY intervention speeches throughout this past week showing concern as to whether or not I can complete this project.
"I'm honestly worried about your chances of your finishing the stairs before the kids start collecting their social security checks," he said, all "smarty-pants" like this morning.
"I'm honestly worried about your chances of living to eat your next breakfast," I responded in an "its-possible-I-might-have-to-smother-you-in-your-sleep" like manner.
The next fifteen minutes were filled with da Hubbs practically falling all over himself trying to back-pedal on his previous statement by saying things like, "You are doing a great job, don't get me wrong - I just thought maybe you would want to make an 'in progress' post on your blog or somethin' - that's all I'm sayin'!"
Okay, so maybe he had a point and I'll delay cutting off his oxygen supply for the moment . . . . so, without any further stalling here goes:
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