Granite

Some guy came and measured our countertops on Thursday for the (absolute cheapest) granite we had picked out.  He thought they "might" be able to install it Tuesday, which we interpreted to mean probably Wednesday.  And then, lo and behold, they called Craig and said they could have it in today, between noon and 1:30.  He notified me, and everything was all set.

But because things always have to be WAY more complicated than I'd like them to be, and often as awkward as possible, the men actually showed up at 11:45, and I had just gotten out of the shower and was in my bathrobe.  Classy.  I also hadn't cleared Craig's tools off the counter space, so I had to run around doing that in my bathrobe.

I threw on some clothes, but that woke up Camille, so then I had to feed her, and by then I was convinced that these men must think I'm some sort of exhibitionist.  (I'm not.  Just for the record.)

And then, THEN, they informed me that the cook top we'd bought wouldn't fit.  Or rather, one of the men tried to inform me of this fact, but I couldn't quite understand what he was saying.  And even once I was beginning to get an inkling of it all, I still didn't know what he wanted me to do about it, and I wasn't about to let him leave without getting Craig's opinion.  I texted Craig, but all he wanted to do was ask me questions to try and clarify it all, but since I hadn't understood what the guy was telling me, I couldn't answer any of Craig's questions.  I just kept repeating my initial text: "I don't understand.  CALL ME."

I really hate it when I can't understand people.  In this case it was because of his accent, but I feel equally awkward when people try to mouth things to me across a room (DO I LOOK LIKE I CAN READ LIPS???  BECAUSE I CAN'T!!!!!!!) or when they think I will understand gestures that aren't making any sense (how is you pointing at nothing supposed to convey any sort of meaning to me??).  I'm pretty much a word girl, through and through.  That's how you communicate with me.  And it needs to be in clear English that I can hear and understand, otherwise I'm completely lost.

Anyway, eventually Craig called, agreed that we'd need to buy a different cook top, and that was it.

I went to go pick up Camille then, and she got poop all over me, which necessitated changing my shirt (not that I did this in front of them, but still, I felt like I was back to being an exhibitionist all over again) and changing her.  But with the water turned off, I had no way to wash my hands or scrub our soiled clothing clean.  Ew.

So here's where we're at, missing cook top and all...

It does look really nice, I think.  Even the cheapest granite is really quite lovely...!