If you lose a finger, it's not my fault!

I swear sometimes I could just strangle my husband. He does some of the stupidest damn things I've even known a human to do. For instance, driving his riding mower off the retaining wall! I have never heard of anyone capable of doing that! Until I married Todd.

He never ceases to amaze me. The stuff that he does and doesn't get hurt in the process blows my mind. Like the time I came home from work only to find out he had shimmied up the antenna, climbed onto the roof and scooted over to the chimney to put on a freakin' chimney cap..alone. He risked his life to keep freakin' birds out of the chimney. UM...hello? Call somebody who does this for a living. Duh!

I told him that had he fallen, he would've either impaled himself on the bushes or broken every bone in his body and he would've had to lie there for hours. To this he replies, "Nah, I would've drug myself over to the neighbors". Yeah, right.

Now mind you, this isn't the only stupid thing he's done. He's usually the only one in the neighborhood who continues to mow in the dark. Then weedeats. He must be part bat. That has to be the only reason he can see to cut grass in the dark. And I mean, the dark. Not twilight.

Tonight, his night-time rendevous is with the bushes. Same bushes he could've impaled himself on. He's out there with an electric hedge trimmer hammerin' away at the new growth. I have a feeling I'll wake up with landscaping like in Edward Scissorhands. So help me.

It's no wonder the neighbors look at us funny.