This never would have gone down in Madison...just sayin'

Rob just happened to snap this shot of me last night. What are the chances?

So I went to pick up Jannika's mattress set yesterday, a week later than planned. (Thankfully. I have no doubt, however, that the week did little to soften any employee's memory of my little incident.)

As I'm helping the sales manager load the bed frame pieces into my car, he picks up a bag of wheels and bolts, looks at me quizzically, and asks, "Do you have a husband?"

I, in my too-big On the run for Alzheimer's shirt and my messy ponytail, hoped this wasn't some lame mattress store parking lot pick-up attempt and hesitantly replied, "Ummm, yeah...?..."

And then this kind, kind (but so, so misled) man looked relieved and spoke slowly like I was five, "Oh, good. He might have a hammer. You can ask him if he would hammer this piece into this part of the frame here, then push in these wheels."

No joke.

And my brilliant comeback that helped reverse centuries of inequality?

"Yeah, we own a hammer."

I want to hit MYSELF over the head. It wasn't until I got in the car that I started thinking of good comebacks, like

"We store our hammer next to the miter saw I used to cut trim for the office, the trowels I used to single-handedly install tile in our bathroom, the ratcheting crimper I used to replace the most of the light switch boxes in the house, the power drill I used to install a storage system in the garage."

or

"Wait, will you write that down for me? I'm just so confused! You said a hammer will put this thingy in this thingy? Hold on lemme write this with lipstick on my hand... H...A...M...M... is there an A or E next?"

or simply

"Women don't need a husband to own or use a hammer, you jerkytreat."

But I didn't. Sorry to the next woman who gets asked that ridiculous question. Moving on...

In other news, sleep is so elusive in our house that I'm willing to sacrifice my body for the cause. When Silas snuck into bed with us at 4-something and miraculously fell back asleep (thank you Jesus!), I was determined to do everything in my power to keep him asleep. Like stay in one position for the next two hours. Even though my shoulder was cramping. Even though my pinned arm was asleep. Even though I was experiencing intense, focused pain on my hip.

Turns out I managed to permanently cement a rogue barrette into my flesh. All for the sake of sleep.

Notice how I neatly cropped out all traces of stretch marks? You're welcome.

I'm hardcore like that.

Watch your back, mattress sales manager.