Grumble, grumble

My parents came up to visit this past weekend, so on Saturday, the three of us went out to see some of Richmond's historical sites while Michael stayed home to work on the house. Honestly, I thought he'd take a nap instead.

So we come back to the house, and Michael greets us at the door. The first thing he says is, "You know how you always wanted that skylight in the kitchen?" Turns out Michael was working upstairs in the old bathroom, which sits on top of the kitchen and does not have a floor anymore, and put his foot through the ceiling. I swear, I thought the days of holes in the ceilings were behind us.

On the up side, this happened while my dad was here. My dad knows how to fix anything, so he helped Michael patch the hole fairly quickly. All that's left is to sand and repaint the patched section, and hope it's not too noticeable.

Oh, and Michael's OK. He's a little bruised, and there's a slight chance we may not be able to have kids, but he's fine. Which should've been the first thing I asked him, instead of asking how bad the ceiling looked while trying not to freak out. He's so lucky to have such a caring wife.