Bite Your Tongue

Ahh, the first official morning of spring break (yesterday). I'm sleeping in until I wake up- no alarm. What a wonderful feeling. Until about 7:30a.m. when my husband says, "What's that noise?" Now he has NEVER been the one in the middle of the night to investigate anything- I'm the one with the bat/lamp/shoe in hand that goes to find out what is lurking in our midst. Somehow he even managed to sleep through the loudest of crying, screaming, and throwing up all through our kids' childhoods. So I dutifully get out of bed, lift the window, and look out to see where the noise is coming from. Bam! The window falls out on my head. ( The ones that fold out so you can clean both sides of the window from the inside-never used in almost 13 years of living here). I bite my tongue -it is bleeding. "Ith our neighborth yard servith," I tell my husband. "Could you pleath get thith window off my head, I bit my tongue." And he has the audacity to ask how I could bite my tongue opening the window. Not, "Honey, are you O.K.?" But he did take me out to dinner at Steak and Shake once the bleeding stopped. Chocolate milkshakes cure everything. We shared a $5.99 coupon meal to stay within our Total Money Makeover ala Dave Ramsey. More on that later. For now we're off to Rosie's for $.59 coffee.