He may need blood pressure medicine. STAT.

I've always know that I can be, well, a tad bit--I mean the tiniest bit--high maintenance. (But, all the good ones are.) Last week officially started my "summer break." I say that because I am teaching summer school and going to AP training. So, this break is more like, well, the opposite of a break. However, I did have a few days off in the interim, and anyone who knows me gets that it is probably NOT a good idea for me to have spare time on my hands. Because then I think about projects. And I get ideas. And Micah ends up with trouble. In my defense, I don't do this intentionally.

Micah's day began with a text from me: "On a scale of 1-10, how attached are you to the lawnmower?"
His response: "Judging by the question, I'm guessing it doesn't matter."
I told him what was wrong. Well, what I thought was wrong. Before I hung up, I let him know that I might have ripped off the pull cord, too.

So, I couldn't finish cutting the grass, which meant I needed something else to occupy my time. Before I begin, no matter what he says, Micah DID tell me he wanted our front door to be red. And, Lowe's had everything I needed! I kept putting the paint on, but the blue kept showing through. I figured this wasn't a problem, though, because Micah came home on the other side on the house AND I made sure to leave the garage door open. Feeling good about the setup, I went in and finished dinner while coat number 4 dried.

Micah came home--from the back of the neighborhood, as expected. I heard the bike pull into the garage. But, he never came in. What was he doing? He wasn't in the garage. He was looking at the door. Mystified. Fast forward: Micah removed the door, and completed the task inside the garage.

I decided that I'd make it up to him. Saturday morning he went fishing and, again, I went to Lowe's. (Micah may want to put tracking alerts on the car...). I decided that it was time to mulch the front garden. I bought the best weed blocker on the planet, as indicated by the price. Obviously. The plan was to spread the roll out and be back with a truck load of mulch before he returned. But, the weed block wouldn't stay down. So, I got drywall screws and tried hammering the paper into the ground. (Oh, shut up, hindsight's 20/20.) That didn't work. So I jumped into the truck to go get the mulch. As he pulled in. He looked nervous. Long story short, we got the mulch, but I had forgotten to put the screws away. Imagine his surprise when he found the screws. Everywhere.

It was all worth it, though:

Red mulch to match the red door.
I also sang "I see a red door and I want to paint it black." All night.
It was strongly advised that I NOT do that.