My Day So Far…

It has been an interesting day in the Feit Can Write household.

My 14 month old son is sick, so I’m taking the day off from work to take care of him.  With a combination of growing pains, teething pains, clinginess, and a big case of the yuckies that may extend to his stomach, he is far from his usual cute and happy self.

Breakfast consisted of him shredding a waffle into thousands of pieces, then scattering those pieces all over the carpet*, like a miniature version of the guy on the Nebraska capitol building.

*Excuse me while I curse the previous owners of our home for installing carpet – and light cream colored carpet at that – in the dining room.  You had young kids, what the hell were you thinking?

With the floor cleaned up, and the little guy down for a nap, I started to call roofing companies to get estimates for the leaking skylights in our living room*.  The first place I called recognized my name, as the lovely Mrs. Feit Can Write had called them earlier in the week.  (She is usually on the ball like that).  I mentioned to the roofer that since I’d be home all day, it would be convenient if they could come out today while I’m here.  He said he’d pass that on to his estimator, who would call if he could fit me in today.

*Ah, the joys of home ownership…

I checked my work email, peeked at Facebook, and hopped in the shower so I’d be ready when the boy wakes up.  As I shut the water off, I heard a noise on the roof.  That’s not too uncommon – there is a maple tree outside my bathroom, and squirrels will sometimes climb the tree and scamper on the roof.  But this wasn’t a squirrel.

This is where I should mention that my bathroom also has a skylight.

I look up and there is a guy, on my roof, measuring my skylight.  I’m dripping wet, naked as the day I was born, and completely in his line of sight.

I dry off, get dressed quick, and head outside.  I’m not mad (I’m guessing he didn’t expect to see that either), but since he’s there I’d like to have him look at our leaking roof so we can get an estimate.  Since its going to be embarrassing and awkward for both of us, I’m ready and more than willing to employ the Man Code of “It didn’t happen if we don’t talk about it”.

Except, he’s gone.

There is no guy on our roof or in the yard.  No vehicle outside – or anywhere on our street.  No business card in the door.  Not even some flowers and a note that says “lookin’ good”.


I went back in and called Mrs. Feit Can Write to see if she had received a heads-up that somebody was coming to look at the roof.  My phone did not have any messages or missed calls.  She had not heard anything, but she mentioned that she thought one of the companies was planning to just show up, and not have her there*.  She got a good laugh out of the story, and I’m guessing her co-workers are currently having a good laugh at my expense too.

*I’m no contractor, but I would think it would be pretty damn tough to estimate the water damage on the inside of the house if you can’t see it.  But what do I know, I’m just some naked guy in a shower.

I’m still not real sure what just happened.  I assume we’re going to receive an estimate in the mail in a few days, as I’m confident he was holding a tape measure and not a recording device.  But I’m also pretty sure that we will not be using that company for our repairs.

So that’s where I’m at so far.  Any minute now, my son will wake up and the possibility of me being thrown up on expands greatly.  If he does, I’ll probably get cleaned up in my wife’s bathroom.

It does not have a skylight or a window.

Thought of the Day – 10/10/11

Today’s thought is “I think I should make up a new word”.  So without further ado….

[wawl-BUH-sted], verb

Definition:  To be caught, by friends, family, or co-workers, at Wal-Mart, making an embarrassing purchase.


“Gary from work totally Wal-Busted me as I was checking out with a case of adult diapers.”

“I tossed the box of condoms into the cart behind me to avoid being Wal-Busted.  Sorry Reverend!”

(Inspired by this amusing post)

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