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My wildly entertaining letters to my son and other American Soldiers suffering in Iraq and elsewhere...posted in no particular chronological order.
Monday, November 10, 2003
September 13, 2003
Dear Rob,
Our basement remodel is coming along. We work on it almost every day. Actually, Rudy works on it almost every day. Personally, I find that smearing joint compound into drywall crevices doesn't meet my requirements for personal fulfillment quite as well as Lifetime Television for Women.
Josh, our carpenter, works like a squirrel. He runs around like crazy, always in a gigantic rush. He’ll show up and charge into the house like he’s on fire. Then he works like crazy, seemingly trying to cram eight hours of work into fifteen minutes. Suddenly he’ll announce, “Quittin’ time!” and drop whatever he’s carpentering in mid-carpent.
This work style alarms me. We’re not paying him by the hour, and I think working at light speed will cause him to make more and bigger mistakes.
At first, I tried everything I could to slow him down. I’d tell him we are in no big hurry. I’d stand on the stairs and make small talk. I’d offer him snacks and soft drinks. Every ten minutes or so, I’d ask him how it was going. I think my efforts may have backfired. Now he feels he needs to report to me his every move.
He pesters me more than I pestered him in the first place!
The only thing that slows him down at all is his cell phone and his wife. One Saturday his wife must have called 12 times. When she calls, he stops working and says things like:
“Hi, Sugar-Bunny! Okay. Okay. Mmhmm. I will. You too, Boompy-Cakes.”
Then he'd launch back into action until she called again five minutes later. Repeat.
He’s always very sweet and nice to her, and it drives me insane. I want to grab the phone out of his hand and tell her to fuck off.
On Thursday I came up with a new, improved Slow-Josh-Down plan. I paid him off. I figured he was in a rush because he needed to get done and get paid, so I wrote him a check and told him to calm down. Guess what happened? Ten minutes later he told me he needed to go get an o-ring for his compressor. I haven’t seen him since. I guess he’ll be back Monday.
I’m thinking of piping in relaxing zen harmonies and burning relaxing aroma-therapy candles throughout the house. Maybe I can slip a Xanax into his Coca-Cola Classic when he’s not looking. Worth a try.
Gotta get this in the mail before the mailman comes!
Much Love,
--Mom
Dear Rob,
Our basement remodel is coming along. We work on it almost every day. Actually, Rudy works on it almost every day. Personally, I find that smearing joint compound into drywall crevices doesn't meet my requirements for personal fulfillment quite as well as Lifetime Television for Women.
Josh, our carpenter, works like a squirrel. He runs around like crazy, always in a gigantic rush. He’ll show up and charge into the house like he’s on fire. Then he works like crazy, seemingly trying to cram eight hours of work into fifteen minutes. Suddenly he’ll announce, “Quittin’ time!” and drop whatever he’s carpentering in mid-carpent.
This work style alarms me. We’re not paying him by the hour, and I think working at light speed will cause him to make more and bigger mistakes.
At first, I tried everything I could to slow him down. I’d tell him we are in no big hurry. I’d stand on the stairs and make small talk. I’d offer him snacks and soft drinks. Every ten minutes or so, I’d ask him how it was going. I think my efforts may have backfired. Now he feels he needs to report to me his every move.
He pesters me more than I pestered him in the first place!
The only thing that slows him down at all is his cell phone and his wife. One Saturday his wife must have called 12 times. When she calls, he stops working and says things like:
“Hi, Sugar-Bunny! Okay. Okay. Mmhmm. I will. You too, Boompy-Cakes.”
Then he'd launch back into action until she called again five minutes later. Repeat.
He’s always very sweet and nice to her, and it drives me insane. I want to grab the phone out of his hand and tell her to fuck off.
On Thursday I came up with a new, improved Slow-Josh-Down plan. I paid him off. I figured he was in a rush because he needed to get done and get paid, so I wrote him a check and told him to calm down. Guess what happened? Ten minutes later he told me he needed to go get an o-ring for his compressor. I haven’t seen him since. I guess he’ll be back Monday.
I’m thinking of piping in relaxing zen harmonies and burning relaxing aroma-therapy candles throughout the house. Maybe I can slip a Xanax into his Coca-Cola Classic when he’s not looking. Worth a try.
Gotta get this in the mail before the mailman comes!
Much Love,
--Mom
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