At last, a litte peace! I hope...

Okay, Davin and I have been counting Weight Watchers points for about a week now. Well, me, two weeks, and Davin one. So what's the problem? Davin. His math geek personality as come forward in full force! Don't get me wrong, I love his intelligence and love for all things numbered, but things are getting out of control. All I hear about when we're together is points. SO annoying. It started one night when I he was on his computer and he asked a question about how many calories something had. I looked at his computer screen and saw he a big 'ol Excel spreadsheet open. He had it all figured out. Freakin' columns and rows with freakin' formulas to keep track of his points. I busted a gut! He thought it was mean of me to laugh at him. His response was "Anyone would keep a spreadsheet." Like, duh. I thought it was hilarious- and cute. But it hasn't stopped- the talking talking talking about points. Today I was informed that he was trying to figure out the formula for calculating points. I said I would just buy him a points calculator, but he said he would rather figure it out because "it's funner". Something about it not being linear. ??? But what if it takes months for him to get it down? That would mean months of chatter about it. So I went on a hunt. And low and behold, I found the formula on Wikipedia! I gave it to him, he's fired up, and I'm happy as a clam. Happy because I feel a little bit smart for finding it, but mostly happy because now he's got his dumb formula and his spreadsheet for tracking points is complete.

Davin: "Oooh, yeah!"
Me: "Amen to that!"


ETA: Formula for Leanne:

Insanity kicking in...

Funny story.

Davin's in the hospital. That's not the funny part. He has pneuomonia and a blood clot in his lung. He actually feels quite fine. We came into the ER last night because he had a sharp pain in his back and had trouble breathing. He thought it was a muscle spasm and would be sent home with a relaxant. Nope. They found pneumonia. And a blood clot. So they admitted him and put on antibiotics and blood thinners. I started driving home a little after one o'clock a.m. Davin was feeling good when I left. I was thinking about how it had been a stressful day, but Davin was fine and everything would be okay. Just as I was thinking that, *DING* the "Service engine soon" light came on in my car. I started laughing. And laughing. And laughing. I pictured God saying "So, Laura, how you handling life now?" I laughed the rest of the drive home. The car ran fine and no gauges went nuts.

"Just fine, God. I'm doing just fine. Thank you."

By the way, there is no ding when a light comes on in the car, but I am certain I heard it anyway.

:)

I love my husband!

Obviously. But this is what he did for me today: Right when he came home from work he fished down Mr. Smily Stupid Balloon from the ceiling, and tied him, SECURELY, to a chair. He always knows just what I need. Thanks for the punching balloon- I love you, Davin. :)

What would you do?

So, if your husband walked in with this at the end of what was a crappy day what would you do?

A) Jump up and give him a hug

B) Start crying- the gesture was incredibly sweet

C) Say "Can I punch it?"

I realize A or B would be ideal responses, but of course, I went with C. If you know anything about me by now, it is that I say what I am thinking. And, dang, that giant grinning balloon was just asking for a fist in its face. Later, when Davin went to hockey, that is exactly what it got. Over and over and over. Let me tell you, it felt GREAT. Seriously, if you have some built up emotions, punching a helium balloon will make your day. It's loud, and it just feels GOOD. You may say I'm still feeling cynical. But, hey, it's how I deal. I felt much better after.

Oh, and what an awesome husband I have. When I asked if I could punch it, he wasn't hurt- he thought it was a good idea!