Today the slowest garage door installer on the planet spent ten whopping hours at my house. At one point he asked to use the bathroom, came out and said the toilet had overflowed--he claimed he had just flushed what was already in it and blamed it on my kids. I hope he's right.
Then he went to plug in the opener, and there was no power to the outlet. Since we had just had an electrician install the outlet last week, I of course called the guy and he came right over. Prompt serviceman, our electrician. And friendly, too. We met him for the first time last week. Today when he came, we had a conversation that went like this:
Ben the electrician: Well, I'll have to fix a wire that has been damaged. I'm totally booked tomorrow and Saturday, and Sunday is my birthday, and my kid's.
Me: Oh, that's fine. Monday will be great.
Bte: Yeah, Sunday's my birthday, otherwise I would come then. We're having a. . . Hey! I wanted to invite you. . . . Do you guys have a fax machine?
Me: Invite us to . . .?
Bte: We're having a big birthday party. Let me fax you an invitation.
Me: Um, wow, that's really nice of you. Here's the fax number at my husband's work. But, uh, Sundays are bad for us to do things like birthday parties. We go to church on Sunday and try to limit our other activities.
Bte: Oh, really? Well, you should really try to come. We're hiring a clown. . . .
Me: It's just that we generally try not to go to birthday parties on Sundays.
Bte: Well, you should come to this one. We're having a big jumping castle, and a clown. . . .
Me: Thanks, Ben the electrician! That is very kind of you to invite us to your birthday party and all. Go ahead and fax the invitation, but don't be offended if we don't show up, it being on a Sunday and all.
Bte: Yeah, no problem. But you should try to make it. We're going to have a clown.
I'm in a bit of a daze.
By the way, happy birthday, Mother Dear. For you, I'll host a birthday party on Sunday.