My husband is such a geek. He sands, stains, varathanes, and installs these bookshelves in our bedroom and then....

*snicker*

...he doesn't put BOOKS on them. So we have these really pretty bookshelves that are nekkid. I feel like I should toss them a robe. I came >< this close to putting some of my texts on them, so they wouldn't think we are running a nudie shelf wall.

It's too late. They think we're kinky. They're over blushing like hell as I write this. I'm cursing my husband's name and wishing he got the damned books out of the garage, but he didn't.

As I said, my husband is a geek!

__

In other news, my parents are coming out next week. Gack! They threatened to call me from the airport here to tell me. I told them if they pulled that, we'd be conveniently out of town for a few days until the house got clean. My mother snickered. I told her that we're trying but I've got mid-terms this week and I'm awfully damned busy until Thursday. Hopefully, she'll take pity on me and call me the night before. I can pull an all-nighter and clean the house, as long as the rest of the family leaves the house until my parents show up.

I live with pigs. My cleaning efforts are like gourmet food given to swine -- totally unappreciated as anything different than the usual slop.

I think I'd like to keep this martyr robe because it's pretty, purple, and velvety, and it compliments my "I'm_taken_for_granted_way_too_much" working-Mom complex perfectly.