I mean, yeah, he lives here and all, but he's home two hours early and I haven't...well, I haven't done much of anything, really.
Okay, that's actually not true. I Freecycled for an almost-new set of box springs so that I don't have to sleep six inches lower than Bo. And, will wonders never cease, this amazing man of mine is home not just on time, but EARLY so we can take a trip to the Big City to pick up my new find.
Here's the truth: sometimes you get really crappy stuff on Freecycle. I'm not even exaggerating. I seriously mean that it's crappy. As in, covered in crap. I freecycled for a recliner and my dad swore someone must have died in it. It took him three hours to hose it down. Yes, I did say hose it down. Now it's a nice chair. It just had a crappy job.
So when you're heading to some stranger's house to pick up something for free without even seeing it first, yes, of course, there's risk involved. But it's FREE, see. So, if it's truly beyond-repair-crappy, it can go to the landfill. Some would argue that you could Freecycle it again, but that's just cruel.
I've picked up some great thing through Freecycle! Really! I LOVE my Freecycled couch. It's the same couch that's in the banner above. We have a way-cool piano that we Freecycled. I have an awesome working second refrigerator. Freecycled. Lewis, our black lab brat (also in the banner above)--Freecycled.
My Awesome, Comfy, Freecycled Sofa
So it's a hit and miss thing, really. And I think you can get a vibe from someone's post, too. Okay, my prejudice is showing, but I do appreciate an attempt at good grammar and at least a modicum of properly spelled words (don't check my entries for grammar errors--they're all stream of consciousness, so cut me some slack. And did I spell "modicum" right?).
Since we're on the budget dating system, leaving the kids with Papa and Bard, a hop in the pickup truck to freecycle a set of box springs (box springs...is/are that/they plural??) and a shared dinner out is about it for the budget. That, and a 69 cent DVD rental.
That was the plan.
Don't you just love it when the plan actually works?
The box spring/s was/were awesome, I was able to talk Bohemian into a stop at the pet shop where I only broke down enough to buy crickets for One-Eyed Wilma my free-range chameleon and a hermit crab for Sweetheart. Don't ask me why little miss Tu-Tu wants a hermit crab. She just does.
And then we actually ate dinner together. The only interruption was the Red Sox/Yankees game and a very attentive server.
Then home for unloading the box spring/s, blogging, playing with Hermit (what else would a five-year-old name her hermit crab?), prayers for the kids, and, finally, at 1:00 AM, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.
Actually, that wasn't the final part of the date. After the movie, we both lay in bed talking until I could no longer keep my eyes open. When the time between Bo's questions and my answers grew to 45 seconds, and my answers began to have nothing to do with his questions, he let me sleep.
That was my date with Bohemian, the love of my life.
