GOD BLESS MY HUSBAND...Oh, and the US of A too...

Does anyone know where I can pick up a medal? A first place ribbon? Something that denotes accomplishment and reward? Something that says "YOU ARE A ROCKSTAR HERO?"

Because my husband deserves something.

My parents have been in town. And by "in town", I mean in our guest room. Let me say up front that we love my parents. That my parents are great, we miss them alot, and are genuinely happy when they visit. Here's the problem. They came separately on two consecutive weekends.

No, my parents are not divorced, and have been married for over 35 years. Circumstances dictated that they couldn't both make it on the same weekend, and we wanted to see them both, and they wanted to see us...so TWO CONSECUTIVE WEEKENDS PEOPLE!!!

Yes. My mom was here from Thursday through Monday, and my dad came 4 days later on Friday and stayed until Tuesday. That's a whole lotta parents.

Like I have said before, when you get married, you become part of the fabric of another family. And each family has it's own way of doing things. Things which you may never understand, no having grown up with them.

For example. My husband's parents are extremely respectful of personal space. They have a key to our place, and would never think to just stop without calling first. And when they are over, they don't help themselves in our house without asking first. If my MIL wants a glass of wine, she asks me for it.

Cut to my mother. She arrived on Thursday night, and I told her we were going to work on Friday and to make herself comfortable. I said we would leave the car for her and give her directions to various places she may need to go (coffee shop, bookstore etc.). At 7:30 am the next morning, my husband was looking out our bedroom window as we were getting ready to go to work and saw our car pulling out of the driveway. SHE TOOK THE CAR WITHOUT TELLING US WHILE WE WERE STILL HOME! Never suspecting that she may leave the house at 7:30 am, I had left my briefcase in the backseat of the car. I needed that brief case! WHAT THE?

When we got home from work she gave me a few telephone messages. THE WOMAN ANSWERED OUR PHONE. When I asked why, she actually looked at me like "what do you mean why? It was ringing". It would never occur to her to not have answered the phone. She actually said, "I thought it might be for me". WHAT THE?

Moving on to my dad...Ok, he doesn't really over step his boundaries at all, he doesn't even like to give his opinion when asked really. But my dad owns a construction company. He builds skyscrapers in Boston. The man knows how to build things. So he put in a window seat under our dining room window. It is beautiful. I love it. And here is where the aforementioned medal for my husband comes in.

My husband is the opposite of my dad. He has never handled a power tool in his life. So when my dad comes with all of his crazy professional grade nail guns, table saws, jigsaws, and auto lazer levels, my husband would prefer to stay out of the way of harm. The funny part is, my dad would prefer that my husband did stay out of harm (and his) way so that he could move quicker. But my dad loves my husband, and thinks that my husband wants to learn. And my husband loves my dad, so thinks that my dad wants to teach. So my dad is patient and explains everything along the way and my husband lives in fear of his life for the length of the project.

My dad also "lets" or "forces" depending on whose viewpoint you are looking at it from, my husband to use all the power tools. I ran around like crazy all weekend (between cleaning up from whatever meal I had just prepared) trying to interject "be careful...dad did you tell him that saw will kick back on him when he turns it on?" or "Dad, did you show him how to switch the safety on the nail gun so he doesn't shoot himself?" and "Dad, explain to him about the electrical circuit before you let him stick the pliers into the socket"...

While I sat thinking that my husband deserved a medal for just surviving my parents, it occurred to me that it is quite a miraculous event that I survived my parents. After all, I had to learn to use the table saw when I was eight.

*note: The night my dad left, after handling all manner of deadly power tools, my husband sliced his finger badly on a steak knife while washing the dishes. What are the chances. I mean, COME ON!