I think it's high time I finally updated the world on how Madame Home Depot is adjusting to life at the Birth Control Bed & Breakfast.
She's a pretty funny guest this one. For some strange reason, two buildings in our garden have disappeared since her arrival. One building being built of wood, so all she had to do was huff and puff and blow that sucker on in. The other being built of stone, which took a wee bit longer to demolish. Actually, it was Hubster who did the majority of huffing and puffing on that one but Madame did what was best in sketchy situations like that: supervised.
Hubster seems to get so motivated to destroy things when she's around. Last time it was walls in the garage and now these buildings this year. I'm afraid that if we invite her back again, they might start on the house.
I'm also really concerned that she's not going to be able to keep up with this intense level of work since all she seems to be eating while here is bread, butter, the occasional lardon, and potatoes.
Silly me, I made spaghetti sauce the other night with tomatoes and onions. I peeked over at her plate during dinner to see a small relief map of France being designed on the side. Thank God Mini-Husband didn't notice that she got out of eating her vegetables or all hell would have broken loose.
So far she does seem to be surviving her crash course in English-American culture differences with Hubster's mandatory viewings of Jane Austin films each night. We've hung out with Mr Darcy (and been told why we really should sympathize with him in the first half, not Elizabeth,) wondered if Mr Crawford from Mansfield Park would have stopped being a male-slut if he had truly won Fanny over in the end, debated which sex really is more capable of loving longest, and had a quick review of who, be it Gweneth Paltrow, Kate Beckinsale, or Alicia Silverstone in Clueless, makes the best Emma.
Needless to say, Madame Home Depot is developing quite the English accent.
All in all, I think she's coping just fine with all the wonders that a house of loud children, an anal retentive husband & father, a psychotic pregnant wife & mother, and three furry Nike eating huskies can offer.
Which reminds me, have you ever wondered why sometimes you see just one lonely shoe laying out all by itself on the side of the road? Madame knows why and would be happy to tell you all about it once she's escaped the B&B. As I'm impatiently counting down the days till I go into labour, she's manically counting down the hours till her flight leaves.
It really is a great comfort to know that we haven't lost our touch yet.