New day, new crisis. We all awoke this morning at 6 am so that we could take TJ to work and the boys and I could get our gym time in. No pipes frozen, no heat lost, nothing tragic (yet) within our home. Today is a big appointment for Teej to do his final physical and audit to leave the Corps. Yippee! But wait, tragedy lurks. As he rifles through paperwork (still piled on the tiny floor of our bedroom) he begins to panic. A very important piece of paperwork is not where he believed it to be. He begins to sweat and swear, up in his "tree," while I attempt to calm him down and help look for it. See, when you move from an actual house into something much, much smaller you tend to place things and then forget where they went (I blame old age, and childbirth.) So we tear through the RV looking for this paper, but it's not here. It's got to be at work I tell him. So he heads off to search his locker in a mild panic. Minutes later I receive a text saying "go look in the tralor." Yes, tralor, not trailer and that makes me smile amidst the frustration. He is incredibly smart, but he is a phonetic speller (just ask him about the "travel clams" presentation he once gave to a room full of marines). I layer clothing and jackets onto the boys and myself and we head down to our bike trailer that is currently holding everything we "might" need in the next two years that did not go into the actual storage unit. To put it mildly- it's not very organized. As I am pulling out boxes, toys, and bike stuff I am silently praying for this folder containing the paperwork to be both in the trailer and fairly easy to locate. Five minutes later I'm holding the folder and calling him repeatedly to say I've found it. I've also located the container of litter I knew I had purchased but forgot where it went. My aging memory is really letting me down as of late. So TJ pulls into the RV park and I hold the folder up for him to see. Crisis averted. He slumps in his seat and declares, "I'm ready for this crap to be over." I agree! So see, it's good to be partners with someone who is an opposite. That way when they are up in there tree, you can talk them down and visa versa. You always need to know that there's someone available to handle your bouts of insanity that will inevitably arise in times of crisis, and agree to do the same for them. Oh, I'm sure that something else will pop up and go wrong in the next sixty-ish hours he has to finish checking out- it's Vegas odds that it will!
On a higher note, we installed a cat door in the back bathroom that has become a storage closet of sorts. We keep the litter box and cat's food in there, so the kitty door was to keep a very nosy Golden Retriever out of the "kitty biscuits." Mazi figured out the kitty door immediately. In, out, in, out, no problem. Zeta, on the other hand, has yet to get it. We showed her, in and out, in and out, but she gets in and cannot figure out how to get out. This is not NASA level stuff here. So she just stays in there until we start wondering where she is. I guess old age is affecting her as well!
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