farewell parties and my soon-to-be-not-so-sweaty balls

Little Owen’s teacher, Emily, is moving away and won’t be his teacher for the next 2 years, like she was slated to do.  Despite my first interaction with her being an email in which I claimed to have restraining orders against me for touching children inappropriately, I think she liked me okay by the time her year of teaching our son concluded.  Or, at least, she liked him.

Here’s a picture of them together at her going away party yesterday:

Maddie jumped in to make sure everything went okay.

Right before this party, the entire family came out to where I was having my Reserves drill weekend, and the 3 little ones bonded with an animated fire hydrant:

And the boy enjoyed a giant slide!

But other than Sunday’s activities, last week pretty much sucked, as we’ve been without air conditioning since coming home from Lake Guntersville on Memorial Day afternoon.  And if 90+ degree weather with no a/c weren’t bad enough, we’ve been battling some mold and mildew issues in our house the past few months (where “battling” means scheduling subcontractors to come rip out shower tiles and/or walls in search of whatever’s been making me sneeze and blow my nose every 5 minutes until it bleeds whenever I’m home, but said subcontractors keep rescheduling when they’ll come do the work).  So, why did it take over a week to get the a/c addressed?

When we bought this place, the listing agent bought a home warranty, because the cantankerous seller had agreed to include one but then tried to back out of this agreement when we went under contract.  So, given that the a/c was covered, we thought it fiscally prudent to try and use the warranty.  But they couldn’t get anyone out here until Thursday evening.  And when the guy came out–David was his name–he was an angry son of a bitch and threw a hissy fit when my bride asked him such complicated, intrusive questions as “Will it need to be replaced?” and “How soon will we hear back from the warranty company about a solution?” and drove off without finishing the inspection.  So, after I filed complaints with his employer and the home warranty company, a new person was scheduled for Tuesday (tomorrow), until I said that wasn’t quite going to work for us in Atlanta in mother fucking June, so they found someone who could come out on Saturday, and tonight, the warranty company said the second guy who came out (and wasn’t questioned at all by my bride) had reported that the condenser needs replacing.

So, tomorrow, I’m having someone replace the condenser.  And I’m reclaiming my dry, sweet-smelling balls from pre-Memorial Day.

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10 responses to “farewell parties and my soon-to-be-not-so-sweaty balls”

  1. jco says:

    you know what you should do w/ sweaty balls, don’t you?

    SHAVE THEM.

    rookie.
    jco´s last blog post ..Summer Love: Boy Meets Grill

    [Reply]

    muskrat Reply:

    @JCO, Ha! A remedy I certainly would have never thought up myself.

    [Reply]

  2. Pretty Bride says:

    I look forward to the sweet smell of your non-sweaty balls. Wait. What?

    [Reply]

    muskrat Reply:

    @PB , pervert!

    [Reply]

  3. Sybil Law says:

    Sweaty balls and nosebleeds. You really are the charmer.
    Ha!
    Damn those kids are cute, though. 🙂

    [Reply]

    muskrat Reply:

    @SL, No charm here whatsoever. I hate mildew.

    [Reply]

  4. […] farewell parties and my soon-to-be-not-so-sweaty balls […]

  5. Avitable says:

    Every time I had to call our old home warranty company for AC work, I would tell them that I had an infirm elderly person in the home and that the room reaches fatal temperature. They would send someone out and fix it within a day.
    Avitable´s last blog post ..My Interview with Ray Bradbury

    [Reply]

    muskrat Reply:

    I need to lose my hesitation to lie! I told them the house was making me sick; they didn’t seem to give a damn, since it was less than 105 outside.

    [Reply]

  6. […] I’ve referenced a few times this summer, I’ve spent pretty much this entire year sick when inside our […]

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