I don’t know why, but here lately there has been an abundance of men coming to work on various aspects of the house.
Last Thursday, we had two men come from our satellite company to fix the cords in the living room and move Eden’s box from her bedroom to the playroom. As I previously blogged, I had a very special experience with one of the guys. We watched a segment of one of the morning shows about men with developed breasts. No, the fact that some men have nicer breasts than me is not funny. However, the situation is hilarious. Watching man-boobs with a total stranger is downright ludicrous.
Yesterday, some guys had to come lift our house.
We had foundation issues apparently (I think). Anyways, we called Nolan Ryan to come fix the issue, but his business was WAY too expensive. So we went with the Other Guys.
As you can see, the house was at a slant.
Anyways, the Other Guys got here to fix our house. I didn’t pay much heed to the men because it was early in the morning and I didn’t want to get dressed. Hey, it was 9am and I don’t have to be at work until 1pm. It was like 4am for you people who work mornings, no? I tried my damnedest to ignore them men going in and out of my house, which was easily accomplished because I had four little girls who are about to be five and six to entertain. (Eden had a sleepover for the cousins the night before.)
As I was cooking breakfast for the girls, the lead man became very flirtatious with me. I think there must be an instant attraction to a lady who can make homemade biscuits by a fat man. I don’t blame him. I went on with my breakfast-making and he went on with his flirting. I went on ignoring it. Whatever.
The time came to run off the children and clean up the kitchen. Lead Man was still there pattering around and ogling my sexy mommyness. Then he began speaking in Spanish to his workers under the house. Somewhere during him giving orders, he told the guys that I wasn’t wearing a bra. I choked a little, but kept cleaning. After he gave one final order that I didn’t quite understand, something about “lifting the gatos”. (I have two cats, so that disturbed me a little more than him perving on me.)
I asked him if the cats were getting in the way of the workers under the house. I must say, his eyes bugged out a little. I then explained how I didn’t completely understand the last order, and I was worried about Skeeter-Waller and Charlotte’s. I also disclosed that I have a pretty decent understanding of Spanish. Apparently, gato means more than “cat” in Spanish – it also means “jack”, which was being used to lift our house.
Lead Man reaffirmed that I could indeed comprende what they were saying, and practically ran out of the door to tell his men. It made me giggle.