Most of you know what I’m talking about. There are fifty things a day that cannot be touched in writing but are journalistic gold. So, while Guy is in Europe and presumably not reading this, I’ll take my chances.
So. We’ve had a nanny staying here for the last two days to help with his kids so I can manage mine. It sounds like that should be easy, but the six of them attend five different schools. I KNOW. I drive mine fifteen miles over the hill in one direction and his go fifteen in the other direction. Transfers happen in schoolyards, practices, and a Toys R Us parking lot. It’s logistically sound yet ridiculous and really can’t be handled any other way. Sure, they could all go to the same school but that’s crazy talk. Who does that?
But I digress.
Tonight, Guy checked in from Berlin as he was waking up and the kids were going to bed. I said, “Here, the boys are dying to talk to you, and I need to go put lotion on the nanny’s back.”
There was a long silence.
“Do you want to know why I’m putting lotion on her back?”
He groaned. “You’re killing me.” Oh, I was enjoying this. He’d just woken up.
“Well, It has to go on a spot she can’t reach, on the upper middle. You know, that one unreachable spot?”
“Oh. Sorry. Well, she got a new tattoo and has to put lotion on it as it heals.”
Dead silence. I think he was starting to hate me a little.
“Okay well enjoy your talk with the boys. I’ll come to the phone later, you know, after I finish rubbing lotion her new tattoo. I think she’s going to have to take off her shirt for this. Bye!”
Heh. Gotta have my fun where I find it.