when it comes to Australian terrorists and shower curtains, I am derelict indeed

I have been neglectful, but it's been a busy last few days.

Friday night I got a call. Well, Justin got a call but I answered the phone because the Babe was fussy and, these days, when the choice is between a fussy Babe and other chores (emptying the dishwasher, cleaning up after supper, answering the phone), I'll take the chores over the squawking anytime. It's not that I don't love Boh - I do! - but I just need to preserve my sanity. (Plus, it makes for good daddy-baby bonding, or so I tell myself.)

Anyway, so I answered the phone and the conversation went something like this:

Moi: Ahoy-hoy!

Person on other end: Hello? You still live at [insert my address here]?

Moi: Uhh...yeah.

Person on other end: [Muffle.] ... but is okay if I don't come tomorrow but in next two hour?

Moi: Uhh...okay.

Person on other end: Okay, see you later. In next two hour.

Moi: Uhh...who's calling again?

Person on other end: Flower. I bring you flower. [click!]

Moi: Uhh...Justin, did you order me flowers?

Adoring and Wonderful Husband: [A look of panic crossing his face as he searches his mind to try and remember if there is some reason he should have ordered me flowers, until he finally responds...] Uhh...no.

Moi: Well someone's bringing flowers.

Who would send me flowers? I thought. Nobody has ever sent me flowers. Oh. My. God. What if it's some weird terrorist thing. What if it's not flowers! What if someone wants to break into our house, and they just called to see if we were home! What if... And my mind raced with all the ridiculous thoughts that my mind always seems to race with when I'm...uhh...thinking. (I need professional help.)

And so you can imagine my relief when the flowers from Damian came. Damian, the wild and crazy Australian who we became fast friends with while drinking our way through Western Europe. Damian, the dude who we promised would be our first born's godfather, and now that we actually have a kid I have no idea how we're going to make that happen (unless he
comes for a long overdue visit to Canada, or Australia becomes the new cool place to lactate, in which case, I AM SO THERE.) Damian, who we stood on the tables and drank with at Octoberfest and absolutely did not smoke any dope with in Amsterdam. (Absolutely not!) Damian, who upon hearing that we had been blessed with Boh promptly sent a bouquet of beautiful flowers to congratulate us, reminding us why we loved him so much in the first place.

And I was meaning to thank him in a timely fashion for his lovely thoughts, but only just got around to it now. That's not a slight on you, Dame-o. I haven't put up the new shower curtain we bought over the weekend yet either.