One: The other night (morning) I woke up around 3:30, and could not get back to sleep. Toss, turn, curl up, cuddle, turn again, you know the drill. The baby fussed a little bit at about 4:30, and although he promptly went back to sleep, I nudged Slice.
"Babe. I'm worried he might be cold."
"Well, I've been awake for an hour now, and I haven't heard the heater go on once."
Slice climbed out of bed, and came back to report.
(Slice:)"Did you turn the space heater on in his room?"
"And I made sure to turn it off after I put him in bed....."
"I never turned it on."
"Hmm. Well, it's been on in there all night, so his room is warm. But the thermostat says 50, so I better go downstairs and check on it."
He left and came back again, having simply flipped the switch on the furnace and flipping it back on. The heater turned on, I finally fell asleep, and the baby stayed warm all night. We still have no idea what happened.....
Two: Since I am me, and if you are me things never go the way you plan them to,
and since money is needed for eating and living and other such things, (LAME)
-also maybe so I gain a new appreciation for working mothers-
I am (you guessed it!) gaining a new appreciation for working mothers.
It's not that awesome, in case you're wondering.
But since Slice is wonderful and NOT ONLY entertains our son for hours every day,
but also cooks, cleans, does laundry, hangs coat racks, and still offers me footrubs at night if I want them,
I can't really complain.
I love that guy.
(Have I mentioned that?)