Jennifer Plesko

Sorry I’ve been MIA the last few days. This week has been kicking my butt. Our house is knee-deep in sheet rock dust and power tools, Boss 1 is riding me like Zorro to get the next four months of advertising and marketing planned before I leave, and we’re moving hubby to the Big D tomorrow. I had forgotten just how much remodeling screws up your house. I was reminded by my father yesterday when he was working on my house. This is the call I got at work.

Dad: Hi, sweetie.

Me: Hey, dad.

Dad: Well, I just got done sanding the wall, and I patched those holes in the kitchen and master bath.

Me: Great! Thanks for doing that.

Dad: Not a problem. I’ll probably be able to come back tomorrow and slap some mud on there.

Me: Cool.

(pause)

Dad: Oh, and uh, I mean this in the nicest way possible, but your house is…a disaster. Do you want to stay with us for awhile?

Me: Yeahhhh. I know. But it’s cool. I’ve got a path from the couch to the bathroom and bedroom.

Dad: Okay, just thought I’d offer. See you later, sweetie.

Me: Okay. (groan)

When I got home last night, I dusted. I had to get high on Benadryl first, and it took three Swiffer dusters for the living room alone, but I did it nevertheless. It was a bit like putting lipstick on a pig. Several hours later, hubby comes home.

Me: Look! I dusted!

Him: Oh yeah, look at that! (snicker) Why?

Me: I just had to, okay??

Nevermind that my dad is probably creating more dust as we speak…but it made me feel better.