We live in an old house, it was built over 100 years ago. The foundation is composed of limestone blocks and I love everything about it. Well, almost everything. The basement is a bit of a headache. Literally. If I weren’t six feet tall, the basement wouldn’t be a problem. If I didn’t have to go down there to do laundry everyday and get stuff out of the freezer my life would be pure bliss.
The problem is I whack my head every time I go down there. I have several head wounds in different stages of healing. The copper pipe that hangs from the floor beams is adorned with wads of blond hair and bits of flesh. If I remember to avoid the pipes, then I catch my temple on the corner of the light fixture. I’m not sure how much more my head can take.
Then there’s the aching shoulders and back. Since I’m wary of hitting my head I scrunch up my shoulders and stoop over the entire time I’m in the basement. The other day I was being careful to stay stooped over as I bent down to get some chicken out of the freezer, but since I couldn’t straighten my body I ended up shutting the freezer door into the side of my face. It’s not a good situation. One of my new past times is searching my head for a scab to pick.
The upside is I can blame any stupidness I do on my head injuries. Like yesterday with the whole Doritos-zit-dog poop thing, that was totally a side effect from one of my recent head whackings.
Okay, I’m off to scalp my head some more, the kids need clean clothes. The sacrifices I make for my children, they need to be noted.
ps- I’m brining a turkey. I also brined my counter top, cabinets, floor and refrigerator. It better be worth it Pioneer Woman. Oh, and I couldn’t find a brining bag, so first I used some weird baking bag. It broke when I put the turkey in, the turkey slid across the counter and I caught it right before it fell on the floor. Then I used a white trash bag. It leaked, everywhere. Then I used a heavy duty black lawn trash bag. I have a turkey in a trash bag in my refrigerator and I have several head wounds that I can blame if it turns out bad.
Last year I used coffee beans and forgot to blow out the candles after dinner. We all went outside to play and thank the Lord I needed to come in for some reason. I found my house smelled like Starbucks. I looked at the table and the glass hurricane I had used had exploded and the coffee beans were on fire. Needless to say I only have one glass hurricane now, but that’s all I really need.
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