...or just me....

Frank is in a bad mood. Downright cranky with a capital "C". There is a leak somewhere in the kitchen sink area that is happily dripping down into the cabinet below. Is this the first time? NOOOOOO, last time he so thought that he had the problem licked that he actually tore up the old concave bottom and replaced the entire thing and even laid new laminate. So it is no wonder that discovering all his work was for naught was a little unsettling. Aarrrghh. Saturday night, he and his brother, finding the source of the leak, happily patted each other on the back and enjoyed the rest of the game. That is until the next morning, when it was once again dripping. Not to be discouraged, he rebeaded the faucet complex and pronounced it FIXED. Until I did the dishes. Grrrrrrr. Once again he disappeared under the sink muttering unmentionables. This time he has determined that it is a leak between the granite counter and the backsplash. . . again with the beading. He is now, thoroughly discouraged.
I head down for a bowl of carrots. Yes, I am still on a diet. By Easter, I will be THE rabbit. Klutz that I am, one carrot, having a mind of it's own, hops out of the bowl and does a double gainer onto the floor. A perfect 10. I look at Frank and announce that the 5 second rule does NOT apply to my kitchen floor. He looks dumbfounded and then roars in laughter. I am specifically known for my not so spotless floors. Gotta love a man who keeps his sense of humor in the midst of defeat and chaos.