August 25, 2006

My name is Supermommy

...and I am tired. I realize I have nothing on actual single parents, but two weeks of doing literally all the lifting around here has left me pretty exhausted. Matt also suffered some extra complications from his surgery (he's gonna be just fine, though), so I've been doing all the incidentals, even those that don't involve much/any lifting. School starts next week for Matt, and I hope to settle into a more regular schedule for the days without Daddy around to distract us. :-)

I have found this very soothing. It sounds to me like many meetings I have gone to.

Matt is, as most of us know, a highly-strung fellow. If we were dogs, I would be a sheep dog (hard working when on duty, but otherwise not waking up unless something needs to be saved); Matt would be a French poodle.

So, he's always worried when he hears noises in the house, especially at night. He was upstairs in his office last night, when I came up from the basement. Not thinking I'd be done with Emily so soon (I was putting her down for the night), he thought I might be an Intruder. So he grabbed the first weapon that came to hand, and descended the stairs to confront me.

Imagine my terror when he showed me the weapon he was planning to brandish in defence of hearth and home: a plastic stapler. Not even a full-sized one, either, but the kind that's about the length of a grown-up man's hand. I hefted it; it wouldn't even have added much weight to a swinging fist.

Matt pointed out, though, that you could inflict some "bad puncture wounds" with it.

So, would-be burglars, beware! Matt has a stapler, and he's not afraid to use it! Now, if you'll just hold still while he lines it up correctly...

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