eptivity

Last week, Stephan went to Costco for pizza crust. And came home with a PlayStation 2.

Then he bought me a brand old copy of The Sims so that he, too, could experience being a PS2 widow(er). I played some car racing game with him, which I totally would have won if someone had told me that I should probably not have the proverbial pedal to the metal the entire time, and then I spent approximately one full hour configuring The Sims.

And then he was surprised that I spent the rest of my free time this weekend reading.

Surprised! I know, right: has he not met me?

Has he not seen the 10 library books I currently have checked out from the library? The 25 unread books, just in the 1/10 of our bookshelf that I have bothered to count? Happily for all whose happiness is tied to the financial state of our personal marriage, though, I hardly ever buy books anymore. I went to Powell’s today and walked out with one stapleless stapler, one page of the weeest, most adorable kitten stickers that you ever did see, and zero books. Weird. But financially responsible.

And I walked about 14 miles through, around, and about downtown Portland today with Cenaida. I’m not allowed to talk about it, because Cenaida had a Bad Day, but I liked it a great deal.

Yesterday was our “Ram Walk,” celebrating all those in my family who were born under Aries: walking at Oaks Bottom Wildlife Refuge, biscuits and gravy, smoothies, and Cranium. And Stephan’s new favorite birthday card of all time from my parents, which is now prominently displayed on the refrigerator and which reads “Because you’re such a wonderful son-in-law, we would be honored to share our family fortune with you…unfortunately, your wife spent it all while she was growing up. Happy birthday, anyway!”

And we all had a good laugh. Almost as hearty as when someone makes a joke about Stephan and my brother being switched at birth because they were born in the same hospital five days apart.*

Hardee, har, har.

* You’d never believe it, but apparently my parents were not the only ones in the maternity ward when Matt was being born. The story is that my dad, hearing some other woman in the throes of labor, shouted at her to be quiet; “there’s a lady in here trying to have a baby!”