On Saturday we did some stuff. Had some lunch. And then this happened:
This is what I get for being productive. I went up to the attic to go through some old baby clothes. There's a consignment sale coming up, so some are going there. Some are gender neutral and are saved. And the rest I just can't possibly part with yet because I want little bitty baby Charlie back.
So I'm up there, rearranging bins and feeling so gosh darned organized. I took one step back off the plywood into the sea of pink fluffy insulation and bam. Right through the ceiling.
I screamed, of course, worried my entire pregnant body was about to go through to the second floor. I also looked around because I had no idea which bedroom I was over at the time.
I managed, after a couple of false starts that actually made the hole bigger, to get myself up and scream for Brad again. He looked... shocked. Worried. And then, a few minutes later, when it was clear I was fine, like he was suppressing laughter.
After I'd calmed down, he went downstairs to survey the damage. I was still sitting on the floor of the attic and I heard him saying hello! Hello up there, can you see me?
Very funny Brad.
The ribbing has continued. I asked him earlier to grab Charlie's towel for after his bath and he asked me "The one by the big hole in the ceiling?" Yes. That towel.
My hip, ankle and shin were hurting a bit last night, but this morning I was fine. I hope I'm not here when the handyman comes to take a look. I frankly don't need the judgement!
We had a sitter last night so we could go have dinner with friends and I asked her if the hole bothered Charlie when he went to bed. She said it freaked him out some, but he went to sleep. He was up about 4 times last night for different reasons and each time I thought to myself, this is because of the ceiling!!
Anyways, it now needs to be repaired before baby gets here so she's not inhaling leftover insulation and drywall. I'm assuming that's a parenting DON'T.
Anyways, that was my weekend. What did you do?
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