This Sentimental is Over-Valued

So, the new vinyl siding project at the homestead is almost complete. I'll share "before and after" photos in a few days, so that you can see how we've successfully transformed our house into something that looks like every other household in America. However, before I do that, I'm trying to wrap up my latest piece of hard-hitting photo-journalism, a charming little entry I'm sure you'll enjoy (once it's done), called "Three Little Inches."

One of the perks to having the house transformed is that we've had a huge mother-loving dumpster sitting on our front lawn for the past few months. Josie has taken advantage of this opportunity by getting rid of some useless garbage that's accumulated around the places after thirteen years of living there: you know, things like rusted lawnmowers, discarded barrels of half-eaten fish heads, ex-husbands...

Oh! Wait, just kidding about that ex-husband comment. No, she still has a use for me. It's called child support!

No...no...just kidding about that "ex-husband" comment, too. She has many, many other uses for me (aside from foot massages, which I refuse to do). Take this past Sunday, for example, when she called and said

"I've cleared out most everything I want to get rid of."

I waited for the other shoe to drop. "Except..."

"Except for our old green couch in the cellar. Can you and Corb do me a favor and move it into the dumpster?"

Dutifully, Corb and I agreed to take care of the job that afternoon, when we picked Theo up at the homestead. And, it was at that point that we discovered one small problem with the request. See, Josie had neglected to tell Theo about her plan.

"You're going to do WHAT?" Theo said when he saw us heading to the cellar. He looked as though we had been assigned the task of setting his favorite stuffed animal on fire.

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