Downstairs
The long awaited renovation of Downstairs has finally begun. My place is getting a facelift – a wall has been removed, the ceiling came down, and a door has been relocated – it currently looks like a bomb went off in my once almost tidy house. I have been reassured we are at the darkest before the dawn stage and everything is proceeding to plan. I’m having a hard time seeing the blueprints through the rubble but somewhere beneath the dust and chaos a dream kitchen is in the works.
Upstairs generously offered to host Penny and me for the duration of the project (eight weeks by the contractor’s guesstimate – ample time to sufficiently wear out our welcome). We have settled nicely into their lovely guest room and found our comfortable spot on their couch. I’m learning my way around their kitchen and making myself at home while consciously trying not to behave like a mother-in-law.
Penny is in heaven, she has wanted to move upstairs since the day she found waffles in Fergus’ breakfast bowl. I’m not certain Fergus is as pleased, Penny’s enthusiasm for life can be a little overwhelming. Oddly all of Fergus’ favorite toys have made their way into Penny’s bed leaving Fergus to rifle through the less desirables to chose his new favorite among his least favorites. Occasionally Fergus runs out of patience for his happy house guest – Penny is clueless about boundaries – unfortunately Penny doesn’t understand Frenchie and usually misconstrues the reprimand for an invitation to play.
We are two and a half weeks into this new living arrangement and other than Fergus napping more frequently everyone seems to have found a new normal. Penny still checks Fergus’ dish for waffles every morning and I wake up to the aroma of freshly brewed coffee. She and I are discovering life upstairs is pretty damn comfortable – time is passing quickly. With luck the renovation will complete on time and us squatters from Downstairs can leave Upstairs to reclaim their space – until then Penny and I will enjoy the view from the top of the stairs and await the promise of a grand reveal at the bottom.
Upstairs
The prospect of your mother-in-law (MIL) moving in for 8 weeks (56 days, 1344 hours, 80640 minutes, 4,838,400 seconds), is much more daunting than this experience has actually been in reality. Then again, we haven’t hit the midway mark yet either, so maybe we should consider this an interim progress report. In all honesty, having Penny and her mom living upstairs with us has been pretty great. I think it has given wife/daughter and I a better understanding of some of our idiosyncrasies.
For example, we both work in moderately stressful professions so by the time we get home, we eat dinner, hang out for a while and are usually in bed shortly after 9pm. I know, I know…we are livin’ la vida loca. Unbeknownst to us, while we have been slumbering, MIL and Penny are up till all hours watching who-knows-what on TV. They are like bad tweenagers staying up late watching the fuzzy channels. I noticed the blinds were closed in the living room the other day so I asked wife/daughter if she knew why, apparently “Outlander” had been a little salacious the night before. Aye, men in kilts right?
Another thing that was a revelation for us is that when we are home we prefer to wear our comfy clothes. These are often outfits that would never see the public, but it’s hard to wear pants with a waistband just because you’ve always got company over. I worry about some of the outfits MIL has witnessed, and what she tells others. The other day I had a fetching button down shirt, sweater, athletic shorts, and Blundstones moment that I’m sure raised an eyebrow. In other blogs MIL has discussed my gardening hat, my headlamp, so I can only guess what is next.
The largest revelation for me is how much of the time I wander around the house naked. To be clear, it’s not like I hang out in the garage or the kitchen with just a smile on, but I’ve never needed a towel as I wandered from the bathroom to the closet or the laundry room. Since MIL and Penny have moved in I’ve become hyperaware of the bathroom to closet sprint and the danger it presents for traumatizing us both. I’ll be honest, sometimes the Indiana Jones theme song is playing in the back of my head as I tiptoe out of the shower, vault the end of the bed, duck out the bedroom doorway, dodge the boobytraps of the rowing machine and crafting projects, and slide into the spare room where my closet currently is, slightly winded from the effort and adrenaline. PARKOUR!
Having MIL and Penny upstairs has been great, and it’s only 5 weeks (35 days, 840 hours, 50400 minutes or 3,024,000 seconds) until their renovations are done and I can go back to cooking waffles naked.
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To upstairs – Yeah, naked waffles!