This Will Make a Good Story at the Memorial

Any time  that I mention that my homelife is exactly like the television show Everyone Loves Raymond I get one of two responses.  Usually it's an "awww, that must be so nice" or an uncomfortable chuckle.

I will say that on the whole, it is fine.  I've written about it before so I won't rehash too much.  It's like being part of the Witness Protection Program because your every move is noticed.  Late for work? Washing your car? Got a bill in the mail? Just bought something at the store?  Yep, they know. 

Last weekend was the first nice weekend the Pacific Northwest has had in, no word of a lie, eight months.  In the seventies, puffy happy clouds, if any, in the blue sky.  Perfect day.

On Sunday I just wanted to work in my garden in peace.  I wanted to pull weeds, rake, and assess what plants wintered over and which needed replacing.  Also, I had some flower seeds to plant.  What I'm saying is that I had plans.

Kevin was already working in his shop because he is active the moment his eyes open, bless his heart.  (I mean that in the most Southern way possible)  I went to our back door, which looks at the garden and you can see the corner of the shop.  I looked and sure enough, there is Kevin's dad and his brother. 

I literally muttered "Eff me."then closed the door and went back into the house.

Now, Kevin's dad has been working really hard in our yard this past week.  He's redoing the lawn and he's loving it because our house and yard is kept really nicely and we leave him alone.  Years ago, Kevin and I made the agreement that even if he does something we don't like, we are to SHUT IT and not mention it. The reasons for this are two-fold: firstly, he's 80 and loves to help.  Secondly, Kevin's brother is awful to him and criticizes everything his dad does yet doesn't lift a finger to help. So, he loves to work over here.  And Lucy is his favorite but I'm off topic. 

I gave it a few minutes and peeked out our bathroom window, which looks upon the entire shop.  See? Witness Protection.  Everyone was gone so I made a break for it, gathered my tools from the shed, and got to work.  At one point, I had to go back to the shed, next to the shop.  Kevin was returning from his parents house and sighed heavily, as he's prone to do these days.  I leaned against him for a moment and said "I just wanted five minutes peace.  That's all."   I looked at him and realized that I was Singing to the Choir. 

I decided to just quietly hang out around Kevin to support him and frankly, it keeps his brother away. (long story)  My work can wait. Kevin needs a buffer.  All of a sudden I can hear music from next door.  A good 200 feet and one house and one enclosed car trailer away.  "Apparently we're listening to REO Speedway this morning, Kev." 

He went into his shop and all of a sudden Luke Bryan is on blast.  Passive Aggressive Response, for the win.

Eventually, I got to work in the garden. I am the brother repellent so my work was done there.  Kevin's dad worked on the other side of the house from me.  I'm guessing Kev might have told him that I needed space, knowing I had ready access to gardening tools.

All in all it was a nice day, eventually we all got to do our thing in harmony.

Now, you're thinking "What's wrong with that? It sounds kind of nice." 

This is where I tell you that Kevin's dad doesn't always have good boundaries.  He has broken into the house WHILE WE ARE IN IT to get the keys to our truck. (we share it with him...another long story)

On Sunday morning, it turns out that while Kevin had returned to bed with me, IF YOU GET WHAT I MEAN, Kevin's dad had walked through our yard, past our bedroom windows to work in the yard.  Multiple Times.  Just kill me. 

I console myself with the thoughts of "Someday you're going to miss this" and "This will make a good story at the memorial"