Jason was feeling really 'at one' with the house the other day after donning some old school cover-alls from a friendly freecycler to do some putzing. Like he and the house were finally in the same era. I must be in love, because even in these ridiculous coveralls, I think he looks great. I'm so proud to call him my man. :)
Oh-and a funny story about these coveralls....Rudy and I were chatting with Dr. Freestone as he wrapped up his assessment of Rudy's croup when Jason (who had come to pick us up) sauntered into the tiny room. He was wearing these, looked a bit grungy, and smelled pungently of gasoline. (He'd been working on an old, filthy lawn mower). The doctor did a little double take and sort of backed toward the door like he was going to call for back up or something, until I explained that this wild man was my husband. I tried very hard (and almost completely successfully) not to laugh audibly at the doctor's repulsed face.
3 comments:
That is a great story! My pediatrician growing up was also named Dr. Freestone...I wonder if it's the same one!
could be...He's with UV Pediatrics...a great guy. :)
I love old-school overalls!!
Ditto to the great story comment. I can't tell you how many times Clay has come directly from work to meet us somewhere and we've had the same experience. I seem to get the you-pour-woman-you-probably-get-abused-by-that-big-bearded-man look more than I'd like to, but I smile and laugh because I guess that comes with the territory when you have a husband in construction that doesn't really care what he looks (or smells) like.
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