Casa Makeover Weekend Extravaganza

I wasn't so sure how this weekend would kick off after having such a successful Casa Makeover Day 1. I was bracing myself for the worst as I was sure one if not many things would go wrong. It doesn't help that when it comes to home improvement, I'm about as handy as a back pocket on a shirt. I realize this goes against by continuing efforts to maintain an optimistic attitude. This is just extremely hard to do when you are covered in paint, sweat, spackle, and any other odorous product utilized when performing household improvements. Trust me, I could smell primer and bleach seeping from my skin during this morning's run.

Saturday morning, I met Mr. Sunshine bright and early who came to clean the carpets. I'm not sure if it was caffeine or crack in the Carpet Weaver's coffee machine this weekend, but this employee was a beaming ray of perkiness with an annoying need to smile and speak at about 100 decibals. Too bad I left my headphones and alcohol in my other pants because they would have come in handy when dealing with Mr. Sunshine. It must be said, however, that he was just as good at cleaning carpets as he was at spreading happiness to the world. My carpets look awesome, and I'm not saying that just because I get 20 bucks back if I send a referral. I was very pleased with the outcome. Thanks Carpet Cleaning Man on Crack!

I then had to fulfill the dreaded duty of waking up Officer Bob. This is not a task that should be taken lightly. I believe Officer Bob inherited the grumpy morning gene from Grand Puba. He grunts at anyone who speaks to him during the first hour his eyes are open and shuffles down the stairs with a "Leave Me The HELL alone!" attitude. Trust me.....Officer Bob is a force to be reckoned with at any time followed by the letters a and m. His attitude remained this way for the better portion of Saturday morning, and he even resorted to name calling as a result of it. By 11:00am, I had been referred to as a bulls***ter, a wussy butt, and a pouty face. I am not going to deny the fact that all these names were very true, but the namecalling was a bit unnecessary.

Once back to the house, the work resumed and did not stop for the remainder of the weekend. I was about as busy as a one-legged man at a butt-kickin contest. Progress is finally becoming visual and offering motivation to forge ahead. A home makeover is not an easy task, but my go-go-gadget mentality has made the days seem less stressful. So far, I have had to rely mostly on my go-go-gadget springs (when jumping to the highest point of vaulted ceilings to cover painting mistakes by previous owners), go-go-gadget respirator (to prevent me from inhaling fumes upon fumes of primer and paint, and go-go-gadget mallet (for when Officer Bob gets out of line). Unfortunately, the go-go-gadget naptime was broken and has been for the last two months. Just to show that work was indeed accomplished, I have provided you with more photographic proof.

Mrs. E washing windows And doesn't she look great doing it!

The PREVIOUSLY purple room. Goodbye Barney! Hello Wet Pavement!

(By the way....I want a job as a paint color namer. Easiest. Job. Ever.)

I have experienced several memorable moments over the past weekend, and as a conclusion to this post, I would like to share with you my top three favorites.

#3. Overhearing The Llama testing her skills as a cheerleading coach. Mr. and Mrs. E, Shorty, and Runt stopped by, and The Llama kept the girls entertained. However, I have some reservations about The Llama's future in the biz of cheerleading due to her choice of cheers. "Kick 'em in the left knee, kick 'em in the right knee, kick 'em in the weenie! Make a basket!" Correct me if I'm wrong, but I've never seen A. A basketball game that involves "kicking" of other players - when did basketball become a contact sport? nor B. A group of junior high cheerleaders shouting the word weenie from the sidelines. I can't wait till Shorty and Runt show up for cheerleading practice to teach the rest of the squad what their Aunt showed them this weekend. Be prepared, The Llama.....you may be getting a few phone calls from other girls' parents. Better not quit your day job! (Although.....I bet you would look pretty cute in that uniform!)

#2. The satisfaction of actually seeing the words "Karma's a B*&%h" played out. Titty Baby and CareBear came over late one night to see the progress of the house. Titty Baby started off by sharing his interior decorating tips. He informed me that it would be a poor choice to place anything valuable below the steps in the entryway to the family room as an attendee of the first Cinco de Mayo fiesta who consumed one margarita too many may take a stumble down those stairs destroying everything in his/her path. Keep in mind that I'm pretty sure he was not referring to just any anonymous person but rather himself and he wanted to make sure he wouldn't be replacing anything too expensive come May 5th. I then began showing CareBear my favorite parts of the house. One of those consisted of the contents of my kitchen cabinet. I stated, "Look! My cabinet even has a lazy Susan!" (sidenote: I really am super excited about this feature because I, like many of my hispanic race, was not blessed with a tall stature, and I will now be able to reach ALL contents of this particular cabinet). The lazy susan comment was then followed by the following statement from the one and only brain-to-mouth filter-lacking Titty Baby. "No way! All my kitchen has is a Lazy CareBear!" The glare of CareBear at this moment would have pierced through steel, and Titty Baby knew he better shut his trap. However, this is Titty Baby we are talking about, and he lacks the ability to do so. Not but 30 seconds later, he then referred to his wife as "Thickburger" and the battle was on. Titty Baby took off into the family room faster than green grass through a goose and CareBear was on his tail, hand in the shape of a fist, and a look even El Diablo would run from. Little did Titty Baby know that Gilbert had used the family room earlier that day as his own water-slopping rehydration area, and the floor was covered in water/dog slobber. I was not present for the actual Tumble of the Titty Baby, but the sound itself was enough to vibrate the windows in every room. At this point, CareBear was laughing too hard to vocalize any remorse and Officer Bob and I ran into the family room just in time to see this........



A grown man wailing on the floor yelling "I think I'm broken!" Let's be honest. Not a single person in that room felt sorry for the Titty Baby as we realized at that moment that karma really is a b*&%h. Without skipping a beat, CareBear followed the fall by stating, "You better not put anything valuable in this area (while waving arms around the sulking Titty Baby still in position on the floor wailing in pain). Note taken, CareBear. Next time Titty Baby, try to use the brain-to-mouth filter we all know you've been hiding for the last thirty years. Let it be said. The Tumble of the Titty Baby will not be forgotten.

AND #1. Spending quality time with Officer Bob priming the spare bedroom at midnight, and hearing him use the phrase "our house" in a sentence. It's reassuring we are in this together. <3