Ramblings of a pseudo intellectual

Honestly, I have no experience with this.  But judging from the search results of people who come across my blog, it seems to be fairly commonplace.  Apparently husbands are making this request a lot.  Or, people are looking for pictures of this, which is slightly odd.  Or there are a few prolific perverts hitting my blog continually.  In any event, you’re not the first person to think of it.

I would say if you’re comfortable with it, there’s no reason not to give it a try.  But I don’t want to hear about it.

Frank finished his final assessment, and he’s feeling cautiously confident. He should hear whether he passed or not in anywhere from 72 hours to six weeks. They say it can say six weeks; one of his coworkers heard in 3 days. So…. I’ll share the news when he gets it but we have little idea when that will be.

For now though, I have my husband back. Even if he is wiped out.

Frank owns three pairs of work shoes: an everyday black pair, and everyday brown pair, and a dressier black pair that he can wear with suits.

His brown pair, oh they have seen better days.  We can’t pin it down exactly but we are pretty sure he bought them at least five years ago, maybe six or seven.  So we went to the mall yesterday to get him a pair of shoes.  We went to DSW Shoe Warehouse.  (I do love that store.  I wear size 11 shoes, and it ain’t always easy to find shoes in that size.  DSW and Nordstrom’s are the only places I have decent luck.  Online, too, but online lacks the tactile satisfaction and instant gratification of bricks-and-mortar shoe shopping.)

We found a pair of brown Eccos.  Really nice looking, Frank reported they were very comfortable.  They were $120 and he scoffed.  I explained to him some basic shoe logic — they are an investment of sorts - if wears them for three years, that is only $40 a year.  This seemed to thwart his initial knee-jerk OMG reaction and he carried the box with him as he tried on other shoes.

Then I showed him the clearance section in the back, and his eyes lit up.  Bargains!  He was beside himself with glee.  To his credit, he persevered through, and found a clearance pair of Bostonians, which he liked nearly as much as the Eccos, on clearance for $47.

He has seriously needed a new pair of brown shoes for a year.  He could have gotten a new pair two years ago.  I think he wore the old pair to work today, even though he brought the new ones home yesterday.

He criticizes me for having too many shoes, for having shoes I don’t need.  I would argue he has a related affliction — he gets too attached to the shoes he already owns.

Frank is an actuary.  My father’s girlfriend has come up with the best way to describe this profession — he’s a legit bookie.  He does some sort of magic and figures out how much companies should pay/charge/make their employees pay for their health benefits.  OK, so maybe it really isn’t magic, but I’m not sure what it is.  Something with math.  And Excel.  And something called FAS, I think.

January is to him what March & April is to a tax accountant.  Busy busy busy.  Most companies close their books on December 31, so January means they all need to shuffle last minute for all the stuff they need to really, officially, close their books.  Stuff that only my husband, apparently, has the power to provide.

So, I haven’t seen him much this month, and neither have the kids.  We woke up this morning before Frank left for work and Lane thought it was so weird that Daddy was around in the morning.  (Granted, even when he’s not busy we usually are still asleep when he leaves — not because he leaves so early but because we sleep so late, for which I will make no apologies.)

But, there are plans this weekend.  Plans for his uncle’s birthday party tonight.  Plans to hang out with friends in Connecticut tomorrow.  Plans to eat dinner with his parents on Sunday.  We will see him, and it will be socially unacceptable for him to be on his laptop.  Hurrah!