Miz Bubs and I like to leave notes for each other. Notes in a packed lunch for work, post it notes on the kitchen cabinets, and little emailed notes (even if we're both at home, sometimes) to be found and surprised by later.
I came in after finishing with the sod and trench filling, and got an email from from Amanda (Miz Bubs' alias):
Joe,Just wanted to wish you a happy birthday . . . hope you have a great day!Love,Amanda
I thought oh, how sweet--she left this for me earlier, knowing I'd sign on when I came back inside. So I sent this reply:
Thank you babydoll. I love you, and this has been one of the best birthdays ever. And as I write this, I haven't even gotten into bed with you yet!Love, Joe
Just before dinner I got a call from my brother, laughing his ass off. "Joe, I suggest you take a look again at your email and make sure who you're sending your replies to." My brother's wife is also named...Amanda. Yes, I had sent my reply to my sister-in-law, whose name is now specified on my email list as "Amanda Beth." I called her up and thanked her for the birthday wish. I think she was grateful my reply hadn't been more graphic. I know I was.
But hey, check out that combination birthday/father's day/anniversary present at the top of the post--a 48,000 BTU, 4-burner grill with a 15,000 BTU side burner. YEAH. It weighs 175 pounds, and I can sleep 2 circus midgets underneath next to the propane tank.
The compound will temporarily be renamed "FAT CITY" from now until Bastille Day. Bring your bibs.