Surburbia Sunday

My gawd, my husband expanded his yardwork repetoire. Call the media! Hey, I give him loads of credit . . . I was explicit when we bought this house, "I do not do yardwork nor home improvement." And I have stuck to it. Dr. J loathes the yardwork too, having been dispatched to do some of these chores for his mother as a youth (bad memories).

So, I hafta admit, the fact that he DOES do some of these things, well, I find it hot! Sure, I am gonna mock him without mercy, and treat him like the hired help (ooh lah lah), but it is sexy when a man does stuff around the house, especially when it's something outside of their comfort zone.


While Dr. J did the manual labor, I played lifeguard to our Lil Pumpkin, who played in her wading pool on our front lawn. (When she needed additional water added to it, I called for "the poolboy" to come fill it up, hee hee). It was a very white-trash/low-rent moment, as I was laying on our front lawn, sipping Chilean wine from a plastic cup (because I didn't want to risk breaking one of my beautiful Spiegelau bordeaux goblets), wearing my two-piece bathing suit, while monitoring our gorgeous Chinese ball of frenetic energy splash and jump around.

Dr. J managed to capture a relaxed, mellowed smile on my face, while I stiffled a laugh since our Lil Pumpkin had her sunglasses on upside down!

When I reviewed the photos he had taken, I figured out why "the poolboy/landscaper" had been so eager to photograph the Lady of The House . . .

Down boy, down! (But thanks for the flattering photography, nonetheless!)