Today was Josh's first day back to work. He had a PT test.
PT= Physical Training
You know, like situps and pushups and running.
And the ever-strenuous abdominal circumference measurement.
You may have noticed in his homecoming pictures that he came home less of a man than when he left.
And he returned to more of a woman.
Life can be unfair, no?
Did I ever tell you about when Josh accused me of shrinking his jeans?
It happened a couple of years ago in Idaho. He insisted that my laundry skills were sub-par and were the reason his jeans were a little snug. If I recollect, he asked me to stop drying on high heat.
Then we went to the Bed, Bath, & Beyond one day and he hopped on a scale. Then he said, "Oh this one's broken, let me try another."
"Huh. This one's no good either."
By the third one he began to understand that I really hadn't shrunk his jeans.
Middle age. It'll get you every time.
Until you go to war and work out all the time and come home skinny.
We got all the cleaning done before showing our landlord around the house this morning, so that's another thing to scratch off the list.
We're mostly ready for the packers to come, which will happen a week from today.
In other news, I forgot for the third day in a row to mail my father's birthday card.
Dearest Father, your card shall be late. I blame your grandchildren, mostly because they cannot defend themselves.