One minute I'm admiring my chemically treated green lawn, the next I'm contemplating dumping the piles of leaves in the lake like they're the dead body of a mob snitch. Yard work is less fun when it gets dark early, your wife is taking a final exam, your toddler develops a resistance to bedtime, and leaf pick up is at 6:30 Friday morning.
|You see foliage, I see late-night raking.|
|Excuse me ma'am, you can't park that horsey here.|
One minute I'm coordinating family dinner plans with the wife like we're getting ready to invade Europe, the next she's actually in Europe. The wife has a great job. A great career (and a supportive husband.) But, her travel schedule would make a Def Leppard roadie homesick. Fortunately, she has enough sense to keep the old man happy with exotic food and boozes when she gets home.
|If you look just above the top of my wife's pretty head, you notice St. Basil's Cathedral, as in Russia. As in freaking Russia.|