My really cute, garden-variety nerd of a husband.
So I’m all, “Let’s go ahead and get those paint samples up on the walls.”
And he’s all, “Alright.”
And I’m all, “What are you doing with that blue tape?”
And he’s all, “Um, doing what you just asked.”
And I’m all, “This right here? This is why they make reality shows about doorknob-toucher home renovators.”
Then, right after the paint had dried and he removed all the tape, I asked him to do one more color. HEY EVERYONE, DID YOU SEE HOW UNEVEN THAT LAST COLOR SAMPLE IS?
Last weekend’s birthday festivities turned out to be a non-stop, action-packed gauntlet of celebratory chaos. We opted for a change of venue for this year considering Steve and Stella were both hitting one of those multiple-of-five birthdays. Essentially, we didn’t think we already had enough going on during the busiest and most expensive month of the year, and wanted to really feel the burn. We set up a schedule that went a little like this: Saturday was the visit to the SF Academy of Sciences, Sunday was the official Princess and Pirate celebration and Monday was the day for Steve and I to schlep into the city to participate in Nerdapalooza.
At the last possible moment I was actually able to get my hands on the gift for Steve that I had been coveting for weeks – a vintage Apple Think Different poster featuring one of Steve’s favorite nerds, Richard Feynman. A gift whose procurement required the kind of time, money and patience that had better earn me a gold-plated pedestal in the Awesome Wife Hall of Fame. Stella’s gifts were numerous, as usual – but it was our particular choice of gift this year that got us the most confused glances. We bought her a karaoke machine. And when you see the pictures you will understand why we chose to sacrifice our sanity over her sublime happiness.
A huge thank you to the family (and friends) for all their various contributions of time, money, travel fatigue and overall stamina. I know of two Walstons, in particular, who really appreciated it.
With the upcoming time change, our days are going to turn inside out. Not only are the kids going to start getting up at like 4 in the morning now, but the evenings – as we know them – are going to be gone, baby gone.
(click photo to see entire set)
(click photo to see entire set)
Today is Steve and I’s 8th wedding anniversary. 8 years. We are officially at that point in our relationship where there aren’t a whole lot of surprises. In fact, I would be willing to wager that if we were to enter the guess-what-your-doorknob-touching-spouse-is-going-to-say-next tourney, we’d be easily advancing to the finals about now. It’s that point in marriage where we know each other’s bizarre, yet predictable idiosyncratic ways. That point when you eerily start looking like one another. And accordingly, it is that point where sometimes we need to reassure one other that yes, we will be coming home at the end of the day.
Instead of adhering to one of the traditional/modern gifts, we opted for the more abstract theme of ink. More specifically, we got tattoos. Steve settled on his artwork pretty quickly, however I spent a ridiculous amount of time searching for the unfindable. Typical. So, after spending the better part of 2 months searching for the Loch Ness Monster of tattoo artwork, I re-focused my search, and settled on something that worked pretty nicely in terms of beauty and meaning.
As it ended up, Steve and I both went with artwork including swallows. The significance of the swallow in tattoo artwork has become almost cliché, however it was that retro component that we both found appealing. When in doubt, go back to the beginning. And, among other things, swallows are a symbol of loyalty, fidelity and coming home. Because in the end, I always will.
(click on The King to see the entire set)
Today, Stella and Steve communed with their people on the fairway, while also partaking in their most holy repast.
(click the photo to see the entire set)