I can't quit you

I thought about quitting, I did. Well, not writing anymore, anyway...I don't know if I could ever stop reading. But I'm a chatterbox. And my husband has been claiming to hear less and less of what I'm saying (oh, yes...I did too tell you I had a book club meeting this Friday) so it has to come out.

My poor friend SP bore the brunt my conversation monopolizing last Thursday. She fared well. And compared me (favorably too, I might add) to her lovely, if vociferous, baby. I cry less. Score one for me!

Last week my husband worked on my inlaws septic system. This has been a non stop clusterf*uck for the past two weeks with messed up communication on inspections and permits (with my work, no less) and sneaky, crappy installers. Okay, and it wasn't just last week because they still have a ton of work to do over there but at least the stress of fines and cleaning up someone else's headache is behind us.

Looks nice, no? It's a mess. Their yard is a mess now and instead of waiting to do the work when they sold their home they've decided to do the work and take the house off the market. So that my deadbeat brother in law and his wife and their baby could all live there. Oh, plus two cockapoo dogs. That my father in law hates. AND there's some rumor about my BIL buying the house at a STEEPLY discounted price in two years. I wish I could find a quick way to illustrate how this information entered my husbands ass in the horizontal position. Suffice it to say, he's pissed. And hurt. I told a friend of mine that our status in that family is just one notch above the drug addicted (and currently imprisoned) brother that stole his parent's car last Christmas Day. Totally true.

The rest of the weekend was spent watching some hockey. No, not some. Alot. He skated in Providence on the big guy's ice which is always fun. And we hung out with the parents, which, this year is not so much fun as it was in the past. *sigh*

Plus we got a guinea pig. Which, hell-o....cutest little fella...ever. He's the boy's. He's been hounding us for his own pet for a few years. The 85 lb. black lab that sleeps with him every night is the family's. Not his. Just ask him, he'll tell you. Until your ears bleed.

So we discussed, and discussed the whole responsibility thing. He did well and is doing well. He has his moments, but don't we all. Anyway, he did want a lizard or frog or some other pet. Veto. Well, no so much with the veto as with the extensive "they're mostly for looking, not for touching" type of pet conversations. And then I showed him a picture of a guinea pig. He was hooked. He bought himself a book, we've been to stores pricing out all the cages and food dishes and such. He's spent hours on line checking out guinea pig information and looking at pictures (see how I ramble, how could I NOT blog?) .

And so, on Friday, a Freecycle email came through. One guinea pig, with all accessories, free to a good home. They were hoping it would go to a child that would take good care of it.

*Bingo*

I emailed her right back and found out her daughter was allergic so he had to go as soon as possible. We picked him up Saturday and the boy renamed him.

Gretsky.

I'll try to get a picture tonight.