We have to have our roof replaced.
Did you hear me?
I said, We have to have our roof replaced.
If the idea of paying $600 for a new dishwasher has me fainting in dismay, you can only imagine how I was feeling when the guy stopped by today to give a quote on a roof.
While he was talking, he showed us a pamphlet. In the pamphlet was a picture of a family weak from laughter at the sheer joy of having a new roof. Darling Husband insisted that I take a picture of the Happy Family to compare it to ourselves after we have our new roof. Will we really be this happy?
The man is laughing so hard it looks like he’s about to wet his pants:
So, while the roof guy was here, I did my best to play it cool and not reveal what a
cheapskate frugal person I am. Here I am, playing it cool:
But then, he pulled out a sample of some sort of roofing material. This was when my stomach started to hurt. If they have to bring samples of what the material feels like, then you know it’s expensive. I tried not to show it, but this is what I was feeling like, on the inside:
The longer he talked, the worse it got. While I desperately tried to maintain my “interested” look…
…inside I was cringing:
Finally, he asked if we had questions and I grabbed him by the lapels and demanded, “All I want to know is how much will it cost??”
He told us. The number was higher than what we spent on the minivan and the Dodge combined.
I maintained my cool, interested look, but inside, it was this:
The rest of the evening has been this:
I seriously doubt that a new roof will have us wetting our pants in laughter anytime soon.
Remember when I said that the chairs in the waiting room at the karate studio were really uncomfortable (here) and that the parents were fundraising for some new ones? That was sort of an exaggeration. (No! Dusty? Exaggerating? I’m shocked, shocked, I say.)
The part about the chairs being uncomfortable was true, but the part about the fundraising was not.
So you can imagine my happy surprise to see new chairs in the waiting room today. In fact, they were so comfortable, that the longer we sat there, the cozier we got, until by the end of the hour, we were all fast asleep on the cozy new chairs. Thank you Mr. Karate Instructor-Guy!
P.S. Do you remember back in July, how I posted this about the Karate waiting room:
“My plan is to use the camera every time I go there so that it becomes part of the scenery and people will barely notice it.
Soon, they’ll be lulled into complacency and I can start practicing portrait shots on them. “Don’t mind me. I’m just taking a picture of the clock…and the door…oh, and since you’re right there, I’ll get you in the shot, too…”
As you can see from the above picture, my cunning plan worked.
And you doubted me.
We went on a field trip to the end of our street to Gerhard’s house.
Gerhard is a German name, because Gerhard is from Germany. Gerhard was born 2 years after WWII ended, but he lived in Germany for the first 8 years of life, and has watched a heck of a lot of PBS specials on WWII, so he knows a lot about it.
He gave us an amazing and quite fascinating lecture on the entire war and then told us about playing in bomb craters as a kid in his village. The village was founded in 775. No, not 1775. 775. The Old World is just so stinkin’ old. He told us about the time they found a leftover bomb in their village and the kids were given strict instructions, “Do not play on the bomb!”
If you want to know what the bombs and craters look like, take a look at the WWII bomb they blew up in Munich a couple of days ago. You can either watch the minute long video that tells the whole story without using words, or read the article under the video, here.
Even I have to admit: history lessons are waaaay more fun than grammar lessons.