Because Brass They Are...

My life seems crazy lately...not hectic crazy...but I may be going off the "deep end" crazy. I had a dream the other night that I quit my job to fulfill my life's calling. What did my life call me to do in my dream? Bikini waxing. Yup...vaginas of Boston need me. In my dream.

I woke up from a nap late this afternoon to Brendan bursting into the bedroom, bringing blaring light and harsh footsteps. What did he say to me? Not, "it's time to get up my Love." Not, "rise and shine." No...seriously...he said this...

"Como te los llamos." Which very loosely translated in some sort of Spanish means "What are your names?"

Then...

"My collar stays are brass." WTF? I asked him if I was awake? I couldn't wrap my head around what would possess my husband to NEED to tell me this...

I honestly thought I was still dreaming...but no...this was reality. My skewed reality. The one where my husband has a weird affinity for saying Spanish words in weird orders that mean absolutely nothing! My reality...the one where my husband fingers these little flat thingys that keep his shirt collars flat...and wakes me up from a perfectly good nap by informing me that they are brass...because...they are...brass...duh?

I have a husband that now has a penchant for house plants. We have books on plants people! He dusts each leaf lovingly with clean dish cloths people! This isn't the Brendan I married. I am in a weird grown up version of reality. So these new house plants...Bren's darlings...have become the peeing ground for one of our beloved "sons" Gus..."the orange one". Bren has now put rocks, aluminum foil, willow branches, AND anti-cat citrus spray in and/or around the potted plants...so what does my industrious little man in fur pajamas do? He backs up to the plant...and pees backwards, arching it into the plant! Aluminum foil...nope. Rocks...nope. Willow branches....pah. In what reality does a cat pee backwards? Oh wait...that's right...it's mine.

By the way...I got a brand spanking new windshield on my car today. For free. Yes free. In the great state of Massachusetts...you can get two replacements a year. Score....but oh wait...there is a brand new windshield on my car with a brand new oily, greasy, black hand print (that looks like it belongs to the big rock man in that movie "The Neverending Story") smack dab in the middle of my free new windshield. Figures. This is real life here people.

That's all for now,

Brandi