Claire and I staying in a 1 bedroom, postage stamp apartment has been nice. It is a good change from the 1500 miles that have separated us over the better part of the last 6 months. Sure, it is different to be sitting on the bed, putting on our shoes and being able to practically slap my wife's butt while she is standing in the kitchen, but it is nice to be together.
The wasp infestation on the balcony caused some consternation for me...clearly not an issue for Claire. I wanted the slider shut, the blinds closed and would constantly be checking the seals of the door to make sure that no wasp could find its way in. Claire would open the slider the moment I left home and spent the entire day with it open, trusting the screen to hold off the enemy invasion.
Yet another stark contrast between my upbringing in 75 degrees and sunny, no bugs, no humidity San Diego and her's with 90% humidity, bugs the size of Texas and heat that melts your face off.
We were eating dinner last night with some people from work. One of the gals with us told the following story:
"The last time my father whooped me was when I was 17 years old. I told a teacher to 'KISS MY @$$'. He got me good with the belt. My mom, just sat and cried. All she said through her tears was 'I don't understand why you would invite that man to your butt.'"
It may have taken a few seconds for it to sink in, but it really was one of the funniest lines I have heard in a while.
We will hold a little vote later this week to rename the blog and the winning name will be chosen. Any last minute entries are welcome.