I jolt up completely. In about ten seconds flat, a dozen horrendous scenarios play out in my mind. The gist of each scenario is the same: the fan shorts out, sending electrical sparks through the air that land on the chemical laden floor (thanks Kilz!) and ignite the house. (The variation comes in how we come to discover that our brand new home is now a charred pit. The real estate agents? The neighbors? We have out of state area codes..how would they know how to reach us.....)
"Why did you do that?" I finally ask.
"To air it out in there," he mumbles.
I am fully awake now with no help of going back to sleep. "Did you turn it on and watch it for at least one minute to make sure the fan is in solid working order?"
Silence. At first I think his silence is of the guilt ridden variety, and then I recognize the pattern of his breathing. He's fast asleep! How could he be? Why am I freaking out over this?
I look at the clock. 10:13. I wrestle in my mind with the notion of driving over to the new house to check on it - but the thought of peering in the black unfurnished house by myself is scarier than the house burning down. Plus - how tragic would it be if I got in an accident on the way over....
At 11:08 I am no closer to sleep, but am closer in understanding how difficult my mom must have had it during our teen years. If I am this worked up over a house, I can't imagine what I'll be like when my kids are out past curfew.
Speaking of kids, mine are making my house chores pretty much near impossible. I was charged with two house-related tasks today: pick out a sink and buy paint for the ceiling and upstairs rooms. I failed both miserably. I had barely uttered the words "Home Depot" when Ellie went ballistic. "No! No more Home Depot Mommy!!! Please no!!!" (Part of me echoed that sentiment....).
"Ok, ok....no Home Depot. We'll just go to Ace and look at paint there. That means a trip to Home Depot tomorrow though....."
"On the island, right mommy?"
"Yes, Ace is on the island. I promise."
When we arrive I put Sammy in the cart, assuming that this would keep him somewhat immobilized while Ellie and I began looking at paint. As soon as the aisle with paper cardstock samples was in view, Ellie ran ahead and began pulling cards with such alacrity that she had a stack at least 30 cards deep by the time I caught up with her. "Hold these Mommy, I'll get more. Don't worry."
At precisely that moment, Sam managed to free his legs from the cart leg holes, stand on the seat, and bend his legs with every intention of jumping out. I grabbed him (Ellie was still pulling cards in full force) and wrestled to keep him in my arms. He now knows that if he attempts to dive head first out of my arms, I have no choice but to put him down and get a better grip. He's a fast little bugger though, and he tore down the aisle as soon as his feet hit the ground.
The paint guy grabbed a set of all the color samples available. "Here. Take this. I usually only give it to contractors, but you can totally take it. Just pick your paint out at home and come back."
I was equal parts humiliated and relieved. I thanked him, took the enormous ringed stack, grabbed Sammy and motioned for Ellie to follow me. (For the record, her stack rivaled the one the employee had given me.) I sheepishly handed the stack back to the guy. "Umm, I can start to put these back for you..." We both knew there was little sincerity in that statement. Any additional moments lingering in this store section would only lead to more chaos. "No, no. Please, it is fine. I'll do it. Have a nice day ma'am." And thus concluded my house errands for the day.
I did make some progress, however. My friend Lisa came over for dinner with her boys as her husband is out of town and Tyler is working late. While the kids ate yakisoba noodles and rice, Lisa and I looked at all the paint samples I had acquired and she helped me make a few decisions. She has a great eye for color - her home is beautiful - and I think I've settled on colors for most of the rooms. Can't wait for you to all see!