Bobette the builder

I built a house yesterday.  No, no, of course I didn't, not really - not single-handedly - but I put hammer to nail and did some house-building.  See, there's proof!

Damn, I'm cute.

Anyway, ahem.  Officially, these were my responsibilities:  1) write down numbers.  2) smile.  3) sing with the radio.  4) pull three staple things out of wooden trim work (see picture) three times.  4) use a jigsaw (!!!) and cut out windowsills from something called "Window Stool."  5) pound with your fist on said window sills to make them fit in the windows.

That is all.

Unlike last year, when I was forced to stand knee-deep in swamp mud, shooing away giant tarantula-esque spiders (that really did happen) and let muddy, heavy, horrible floor braces drip goo in my hair.

Last year Big Sucked.

This year was In-CRED-ible and I SUPER HEART LOVED IT!

I am a great builder-girl.

Even my shoes stayed clean.  Big smiley face!



Only other thing I wanted to talk to you about is this.  Look.  If you happen to know someone who is Big Mr. Know-It-All, and they tell you something that you blatantly know is untrue, and then you get PROOF that they were wrong, you are still screwed.  Because then you tell them the TRUTH and expect them to be all, "oh hey, I was wrong, wow," and instead they just go "Cool!" and you are left feeling like a dope who bothered with a whole I-Told-You-So thing and it didn't go your way.

Oh law.

I'm married to someone who knows a lot.  I'm just saying.

But I love him, and he loves his builder-girl.