For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction

So, the question is what is the equal and opposite reaction for your husband when he stays up until 1am scraping linoleum flooring from your kitchen?

Well, before I answer that question let me just state what I'm sure I've said before. I have the worlds most awesome husband. He's handsome, he's smart, he's sweet, and he's one helluva handy man (not to mention he looks really cute when he's bent over scraping the kitchen floor with his shorts riding about half way down his cute little "no butt").

Before the arrival of baby number one, we have enough projects to be done that Bob Villa would run screaming in the other direction. Hubby however is not phased by the seemingly endless list of honey do's that must be completed sometime in the next 17 weeks. One of these tiny little, no big deal, I can do it in a weekend, projects is putting new flooring in the whole house.

Normal people would go, get a home depot credit card, pick out some carpet/laminate/tile and have them lay it and pay for it for 6 months longer than the flooring actually lasts. Nope, not hubby. He's a do-it-yourself kind of guy. So, yesterday he decided that "the list" can be ignored no longer. He calls me on his way home from work and says he's going to pick up "a couple of things" at Lowe's and be home later. An hour and a half after that he calls and offers to pick up Chicken E on the way home. I didn't argue. We eat some yummy, greasy, no excuse for exposing your pregnant body to this crap, chicken and then go to unload the car.

We bring in things that I have no idea what they are and some of them quite frankly scare the hell out of me. One of which is a 4ft long metal pole with a giant blade attatched to the end of it. He tells me it is "an industrial floor scraper". After we get it all inside he grabs said "industrial floor scraper" looks at me and says "I want to see how well this is going to work." I grin, while the wife in my head says "Yeah, and you're not going to be able to stop. I know you. You're like that." I, being the good wife, and appreciating the fact that he intends to basically remodel my whole house before the arrival of our child, sit down at the dining room table, fire up my lap top, and begin to watch. It's not 5 minutes and he's pulling off his shirt. At which point in time, I suggest he just go ahead and put some work clothes on. Enter no shirt, old baggy shorts, old tennis shoes, and strap on the knee pads and thus begins the adventure of the kitchen floor. But not before a trip outside to the shed for a painters tool and razor blades.

(Funny aside, he comes back in the back door from the shed with his hands full of stuff and because his hands are full he can't pull up his old baggy shorts which have fallen completely off of his butt. He's having to walk all splay legged to keep them from falling down around his ankles. Being the helpful wife that I am. I just stated the obvious "Honey, your pants fell down." while laughing, not with him, at him. Wow, he puts up with a lot of crap from me!)

So, as previously mentioned he continues to scrape, pull, peel and coax (with curse words) the 25 year old linoleum from the kitchen floor, until approximately 1am. At which point in time he sweeps up the mess from the kitchen floor to reveal that he's only about 1/3 of the way done. We both just kind of chuckle and get ready for bed.

Now, the answer to the question, "What is the result of all of this?" Hubby usually has an alarm that goes of at 6am and if he doesn't get up then, he's up with in 10 minutes. This morning I yawn, stretch, open my eyes, see daylight, and notice that hubby is still in bed. I look at my clock. 8am. I softly and sweetly say "Honey, did you not set an alarm?" At which he comes flying out from under the covers, looks at the clock, wonders why his alarm didn't go off, and immediatley begins his morning routine of making coffee and eating breakfast. At 10 am he's showered, dressed, drugged up with Aleve (from the previous night's slaving) and ready to walk out the door when he becomes engrossed in a cheesy vampire movie.

He went into the living room to hit record on the TiVo and makes the mistake of sitting down to perform this task. 10 minutes later, again in my sweetest wife voice, I say "Honey, you do know it's after 10 o'clock?" I get a "Yeah" while he's still staring glaze eyed at the TV. "You do know you're recording that?" The same response "Yeah". "You do know that means you can watch it later?" Finally, I got through "Huh?" breaking eye contact with the TV, "Yeah, I'd better get to work."

Husbands are such funny things!! He's smart enough and talented enough to do pretty much anything in the world, but he can't resist the siren song of "John Carpenter's Vampires II".