Adulting

My husband kisses me good-bye and heads off to work. I roll out of bed, the dog at my heels (he’s very interested in breakfast) and head to the bathroom. I’m staring at my reflection in the mirror asking myself “to wash my hair or not to wash my hair?” when my phone rings. It’s my husband. I answer it.

“Hey – what’s up, baby?”

“My car won’t start,” he replies.

I immediately decide I am NOT washing my hair.

“I’ll come down. We can give your battery a jump.”

“I don’t know if it’s the battery.”

“Well, it’s worth a shot – and you can take my car and I can walk if it’s not the battery.”

He agrees, I throw clothes on and leave the sad dog behind, who is wondering if I have left him and forgotten about breakfast entirely.

We use my jumper cables and successfully jump start my husband’s car. He drives to work and head upstairs to feed the dog and get myself out the door. We were both about half an hour late to work. He drove to the nearest AutoZone on his lunch break and had them test the battery, which, lo and behold, needed to be replaced. And it was. And before 1pm on a Monday, we’d managed to each have worked half of our workday and replaced the car battery. And fed the dog, obviously. Breakfast was NOT forgotten.

No one cried, no one freaked out or yelled or had a melt-down. We just handled it and moved on.

We’re ready for our Adult Certificates now. Thanks.

And I know I made this sound super effortless, but if we could be done adulting for the week because of this, that’d be great.

And the dog’s breakfast? He didn’t even eat it. After work, I pulled the trash can out from under the kitchen sink to throw it away and only when it was IN THE TRASH CAN did he try to eat it.

20150817_194643-01

I am thankful to say this is the ONLY thing my dog has ever tried to eat out of the trash can.

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