Here’s the thing, I can’t pick on him too much because he’s doing this out of love for ME. Still, in the interest of keeping it real, I can’t let it pass. I’ve got to call him on it.
My Captain and his best friend, Ty, are working on building a beach chair shed that My Captain designed for renters of Pop-Pop’s beach cottage to use. So he’s spending a good portion of his vacation, well, working on it. But that is the way My Captain rolls. He’s got to be busy. He’s got to be doing. Making a difference. Sweating. That’s just who I married.
Oh, sure, he says he’d like to just sit down with a beer and be a vegetable, but he never does it for more than a couple of hours before he finds stuff that ‘needs doing.’ And if he doesn’t find it, you can bet I will.
So here is the spot next to the garage the shed will eventually go.
And here are the guys at work building it.
But none of this is the point of this post.
The point of this post is that it is literally impossible for anyone to look cool wearing safety glasses.
Impossible.
Utterly impossible.
As in, NOT possible.
Despite sweaty muscles.
Despite the love-colored glasses through which I see him always.
Despite his cute butt, as reflected so beautifully in the old pink mirror.
There is just no way to turn safety glasses into something NOT dorky.
But My Captain doesn’t mind for several reasons. 1) He knows safety never takes a holiday, and a few hours of dorkiness easily off-sets wood chips through an eye. 2) He’s on a mission, and can’t be bothered with how he looks while carrying it out. and 3) He knows and trusts his dearest friends and family to love him anyways.
And he is right, as always.
But he’s still a dork.
Mama Boe 