The handymen are here. A team of two. That's good because I always feel bad when it's just one guy and he has to work in silent solitude all day. It's nice that they have each other. Kind of like why I like having two cats. I can leave all day and not feel guilty or worry that they'll get lonely. (the cats that is) Tom has I have a tad too much empathy for people, animals and even inanimate objects. Yeah, I guess it's true.
Anyway, so the handymen keep walking through with various materials and things... everytime pass by, one of them asks me a question or two. It finally dawned on me that, like most people who come here and don't know me, they are trying to figure out how old I am and how I could possibly own a home and have a child. The most recent question that tipped me off was:
Handyman: "Soooo, how long have ya'll been married?"
Me: "Three and and half years."
Handyman: "Oh how nice. High school sweethearts?"
Me: "Umm... no, college, actually."
Handyman: "(surprised look) OH!"
I guarantee after two or three more trips through the foyer, one of them will just come out with it and ask me how old I am. I'll keep you posted... ;)
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