flipflop

Around noon yesterday I got a call from the appraiser…. FROM MIAMI.

Apparently her vacation got delayed and had to reschedule…. It wasn’t but sheer moments after I hung up the phone with her that I heard this annoying “tapping” noise. The roof was leaking…

I squealed for Kevin who came rushing out defensively from the back of the house. (He hates spiders too). He discovered I wasn’t screaming about a bug – but the previous water spot which had remained bone dry since we bought the house was dripping water and looking worse.

We did a walk through and found two other spots. It seems the 9+ year old roof has had it after this last ice-heavy winter.

I rang up the home warranty people and they’re sending out a roof-man today.

Meanwhile, we got together again with “Mystery Friend Elise” for pizza, salad, MST3K and intoxicating conversation.

Elise’s husband, Andy, travels for work so he’s gone most work-weeks leaving wife and son to their own devices. It seems like we’re developing a bored housewife dynamic to our friendship… “Hi… I’m dying for a cup of coffee and I broke my press – can I come over?” – or “why don’t we play hookie one afternoon, I’ll stick the kid with grandma and lets go get a pedicure!”

Husband Andy, is a drop-dead woofy piece of fur candy that, given the orientation and inclination, would give “Jack Radcliffâ„¢” a run for his money. He couldn’t be happier that there’s three big burly gay guys looking after his sweetie and his son. We’re rapidly becoming the three weird gay uncles… I’m giddy happy.

So.. We giggled… We drank coffee… We listened to Elise rant for 15 minutes regarding ‘Mechanically Separated Chicken – I mean.. What the fuck is that?!?!”

I forgot about worrying about the roof.

Escapism comes in all shapes and sizes… For most it’s the boob-tube.

For me, it’s a big-boobed 30-something mama in plastic flip flops.

I adore you Elise.

*even though you resist having your face photographed… It’s not like I blog or anything – so who would see the photos?!?!