I feel like I have to preface this post by saying, 1) I used to work at a hardware store, b) I am NOT a hoarder (at least, I am trying not to be) and 4) Luke reveled in his Irish heritage today by enjoying a bit of the leprechaun’s mischief.

It started when I was looking under my bed for a book I had been reading. I found a plastic bag filled with rain gutter brackets and end caps, along with hollow wall anchors. I mean, that’s what’s under your bed, right? I realized these were purchased a little while ago for a project that went out the window as I took on far too much my first year of teaching. And since my first year of teaching was 2003, that was when these were purchased. I am hanging my head in its pink-faced shame. But if you know me, you know I despise throwing something useful away (thank you Bompop!), so I figure during our errand running today, we will stop at the hardware store so I can return them and maybe look at some bathroom faucets for a new project I hopefully will finish. (Clearly Brian is still not at home, which is why I was even allowed to walk into a potential home improvement situation. My friend knows a bit about the love of a good home project, so I know I’m not alone.)

Lately I have been trying to give Luke more opportunities to learn how to behave appropriately in public, so I don’t use a leash (besides he’s a kid, not a dog), and I am trying to have him walk and stay near me as opposed to me having to carry him always (which is probably part of the reason I have a pinched nerve-post to follow). So while I am giving the cashiers (and the assistant store manager) fodder for their “worst customer issue of the day” conversations by trying to return items from 2003, Luke is playing with the Wet Floor triangle while lying on the linoleum and reading the letters on it (he knows L and O). (I tried to get them to just take the brackets and anchor bolts, but they insisted on giving me store credit.) With my recently acquired $30 store credit, I decided to shop for a bit in the bathroom faucet section to potentially spend a little to upgrade our bathrooms for hopefully a big impact. While there, I let Luke play the cardboard backed replacement faucet handles like cymbals, and stack the boxes of water filters to make a tunnel in the aisle. I couldn’t help remember my grandparents letting me play with the different size washers kept in open bins like I was making a salad. It must have driven them crazy, but love makes you do silly things, right?

After I pick out my faucets (they’re great about returns, I’ve learned, so I can always return them in 8 or 9 years), one of the salespeople asks me if I need any help. I ask the question that used to make me nutty when I worked at True Value, “How standard are these?” But I cannot hear his answer over Luke’s recently learned impression of the bagpipes we heard this morning at our St. Patrick’s Day parade. As I turn around, I see my child has a ¾ inch flexible stainless steel faucet supply line in his hands. And he is using it as the bagpipe chanter. As in, it is in. his. mouth. Let me repeat, IN his mouth. The salesperson looked at Luke and asked him “Is that clean?” I could only respond with, “It’s cleaner now.” This is my embarrassing moment of the day. It’s times like these, that will keep me from feeling too guilty for yelling, “I love you Luke!!!” as he gets out of the car at middle school.

Oh, and I haven’t found the book yet…

For each petal on the shamrock.
This brings a wish your way
Good health, good luck, and happiness
For today and every day.