Friday Lovin'

So last week I was driving home after dropping the children off at school. I was in my jammies, no bra, unbrushed hair, and no shoes. I know. Could I get any sexier? In my defense...well...actually I have no defense. There is no rational explanation for why I couldn't take five minutes to make myself presentable. I've just been really tired lately.

Anyways, I was driving down the road looking at all the identical tan plastic trash bins lined along the road. I was thinking to myself how cluttered they make the tiny roadways look, and how much I hated trash day. I had a brief fling last summer with running, and I hated running on trash day. The street just smelled so bad from the rubbish rotting in their HOA approved containers. That's when I took to running alongside the canal. It was peaceful, and beautiful, and there was no smelly garbage. Perfect. Until the day I was a mile from anywhere and I met two feral dogs. I stopped running after that. But this is all neither here nor there. The part relevant to the story is I was driving along looking at all the trash by the road.

I only saw it because I was looking at the trash. Any other day I would have driven right by it without a glance. Between two trash bins was a small pile of dirty faded boxes. I wouldn't have given them a second thought, but taped to the boxes was a hand-lettered sign featuring the two most beautiful word in the English language:

"FREE HAMMOCK "

"Did you see that?!!!!!!" I asked The Greatest (who was riding in the car with me, fully clothed and wearing shoes. to this day I'm not sure why he didn't just take the kids to school and leave lazy jammied me at home) (and yes, I do speak in that many exclamation points!!!!!)

He had not seen the sign. I explained to him that there was a sign that said "free hammock." I pulled into our driveway and promptly pulled back out facing the direction from which I had just come. I was headed for that free hammock.

Now The Greatest does not understand trash day. I once found a coffee table I wanted on the side of the road on bulk trash day, and he insisted we knock on the door and ask the people who lived there if we could take the coffee table. They helped us load it into our car, happy to be free of the huge rectangle monstrosity. A couple of cans of black spray paint and we've got a fantastic coffee table in our family room. It is ginormous and perfect. But it still did not convert him to the joy of trash treasures.

As I pulled up to the dusty pile The Greatest did his best to discourage me. The boxes were faded and dirty and looked like they had gotten soaked and dried out several times. The only thing suggesting this pile was anything other than absolute garbage was the sign. And the only thing suggesting this unassuming pile was a hammock was also the sign. The Greatest told me I didn't need a hammock that badly.

But I did, I really did.

Growing up my Aunt had a hammock in her back yard. It was down at the base of a hill, under a huge shady tree. It was the perfect place to lay and read books. The fondest desire of my tiny childhood heart was to have a hammock of my very own, so I could lie in it and read books whenever I wanted to. The Greatest has a knack for fulfilling all my childhood dreams. He's tall, dark, and handsome. We live in a place where it is warm all the time and I can lie in the sun like a lizard and just soak up the heat down to my very bones. I've got a houseful of children. We have a pool. He planted me an orange tree. And now I was determined he was going to bring another dream to fruition and get me that hammock.

After all, he was the one wearing shoes.

He knows me. He knows when to just give it up and do what I want. So reluctantly he got out of the car. He stared of the dusty pile, not wanting to touch it, because touching it would surely get him dirty as well.

"I don't think its any good" He protested.

"Just put it in the car! Even if it is rusted and ruined we can fix the frame up and paint it, and having a hammock frame is one step closer to having a hammock."

Rolling his eyes, but indulging in my whims, he tried to pick up the boxes, but they were to awkward in shape for him to manage on his own.

So I got out of the car to help him, on the hot asphalt, barefoot. I really wanted that hammock.

The boxes smelled bad.

Like garbage.

Maybe this was a mistake.

I HATE it when The Greatest is right. I was starting to suspect he had not picked up the boxes because he loved me so much he can't deny me anything I want, and because he finds my crazy determination endearing. No. I was starting to suspect he had picked up the boxes because he wanted to tell me HIS favorite words in the English language:

"I told you so."

Sometimes he really isn't The Greatest.

Together we manhandled the boxes into the back of our SUV. I drove home grateful that The Greatest had to go to work later that morning, and figured I could deal with the rubbish while he was gone. If it turned out to be ruined beyond repair, or worse yet, not in fact a hammock but instead just a random pile of garbage that we had stolen and put in the back of our car, I didn't want him around. If things went south, I was lucky ,I could have the stuff back on the curb in front of our house, and quietly picked up by the garbage truck before he came home. He would never have to know how this all played out if it ended badly.

To my surprise, the moment we pulled into the garage, The Greatest hopped out of the car and started to unload the boxes (which I'd like to point out, he did by himself, no barefoot wife in the streets required). He was going to find out right away what we were dealing with.

We cautiously opened the first box. Cautious on my side because it looked like it might be a haven for bugs and spider. The cardboard had indeed gotten wet and warped and dried. It was oddly stiff and plumes of dust came up as we opened the top. We peered inside to discover

A BRAND NEW HAMMOCK!

Still wrapped in bubble wrap!

To quote Meaty "Booooo-yahhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!"

TOTAL SCORE!!!!!!!!

We eagerly assembled the hammock using the pictures that accompanied the direction that were, of course, in Spanish (which neither of us speak). Then we spent the rest of the morning lying in it. When the children came home from school we took turns lying in it and reading together.

So this Friday morning, I'm loving my hammock. I've got a reasonably clean house, and a brand new book to read. It's going to be a perfect day.

What are you loving?