Women Are Tough

No, really. They are.... more so than you would think...

Some women are tough emotionally. Me? Well, emotional stability eludes me most times - BUT I am physically tough. I have moved a heavy wooden table across one room to another by pushing it with my feet. I have sat on a nail while trying to watch my husband work out in the garage and managed to deal with the pain by running inside and cussing like a sailor. I have grouted a kitchen floor, sealed a deck and mowed in the same day and only had rum as my pain reliever. And I have managed to move a wine rack with a heavy granite top down the basement stairs with only a few minor scuffs on the wall....

So yesterday was really no exception when it came to a new level of pain. The aforesaid kitchen floor had not been totally finished, so I was in the kitchen ready to grout some more when my husband picked up one of the slate tiles to mastic/adhere to the kitchen floor. One thing led to another and he playfully swung it to one side and then the other side...

That other side happened to be my nose...

Believe it or not, the tile broke in half and I stepped back in disbelief. I was in shock. And I believe my husband was too - as this was something that would typically happen to me (as I am usually the one accidently hurting him). My hand slowly goes to my nose and he steps forward to make sure I was ok.

I step back.

He tries again. I step back again. All this done without many words spoken...

I didn't cry. I didn't whine. I didn't yell.

I just didn't want it to happen again lol

Needless to say, my husband felt terrible and when he asked, "Ya know when your parents said it hurts them worse then it hurts you?", I suddenly stopped backing up.

Cuz, I understood. NOT because my parents ever said that to me. BUT because I always wished they had.

Step #2 - Tile Floor

A few years back, I might have thought that doing the tile in my kitchen was no big deal. However, that would have meant I was younger and better equipped to deal with the consequences of doing our tile floor myself. Not only physically, but emotionally as well - anymore, I look at our kitchen floor covered with 3/4 of the tiles and think that maybe - just maybe - it doesn't really matter if I have the other 1/4 of the tiles and grouting is way overrrated.

And then reality sets in and I try to do the mature thing and finish what I started lol

I am not able to help the feeling of animosity, tho, when I realize the number of tiles I *thought* I grouted really isn't much when I get my butt off the tiles to take a look at my progress. The 'look at me go!' feeling is replaced by one of 'no f'n wayyyyy' when I realize that my hands are permanently 'claw-shaped' because I spent a good hour on 4 tiles.

Yeah. FOUR flippin' tilessssss....

It is also sad to see me run outside to wash off the sponge that I use to wipe down the tiles. Not only because I go to end of the deck, turn on hose and pathetically spray as much as possible onto the sponge to get rid of the grout embedded in the it, but because it has also been f'n raining the past 2 days.

I am sure if one was to secretly camcord me, they would wonder why I don't just put the sponge down on the deck and let Mother Nature help me out. Especially since I take off my socks as I go outside and eventually walk across the 'clean' tiles with wet feet leaving footprints.

Honestly, I swear my feet are beginning to look 'claw-like' too from this friggin' grouting *sigh*

I think my body is trying to tell me something lol