I Wonder if James has Children?

On Sunday, Carolsue called. It was a blessing. You see, my in-laws are visiting this week and my father was also over. Instead of being there for their intended purpose--celebrating my six year old's birthday, they were busy discussing all things me.

My father, a staunch socialist, and my father in law, a serious right-wing conservative, were giving me their loving, but unsolicited, opinions about politics, property management, real estate markets of Arizona and Alabama, home schooling philosophies, the state of the economy, the presidential election, my parenting style and anything else they could possibly include in their diatribe. My husband had excused himself hours earlier, to search the garage for some obscure tool he needed right then and there. He had not been seen since. So, Carolsue's call, sadly, was the highlight of the afternoon.

It appears, there seems to be some sort of major water leak at Wayward's former home. Before I could turn on the tact filter, the first thing out of my mouth was, "Carolsue, please stop calling me with bad news on Sundays." After all, this is the second Sunday in a row Carolsue has called me with some sort of immediate crisis. Of course, both fathers were actively listening to my groans as I ingested all of Carolsue's great news. As soon as I hung up, they had new fodder.

With nothing that could be done until Monday (now that Baseball Guy turned off the water), I called James. James is my carpet installer. I really hate to even admit I have my own personal carpet installer. But, well... I do.

I found James through Jack. Jack found him through the Birmingham paper. The ad said,"Carpet installed cheap. Cash only." I haven't asked a lot of questions about James or his business. I do know--now that James has done a bit of work for me--James works fast. His carpet is good quality. And, true to his ad, he is cheap. According to Carolsue, James is a former Hell's Angel who gave up the biker life for a vocation in interior design. She says he looks the part and he does great work. What more could a girl ask for in a carpet guy?

James was supposed to show up on Monday. Actually, he was supposed to have shown up last Monday. But, last Sunday I had to call him and cancel. Now, two weeks in a row, James was none-too happy. James has a cash only business. He had already bought all the materials for this house. He already hired his workers. He was ready to go. until I called. Again.

As part of his preferred clientele, I get perks. One of them is James rescheduling his life to install carpeting. But, he only does this once. The second time, there is a price to pay. The price this time was simple: he dumped his frustration out on me. He had a lot to say too. Apparently, James' cheap carpet installation is in high demand and he doesn't have time to mess around with flakes who have crises out of their control two weeks in a row. I might have taken this a bit personally if I hadn't just spent the last hour hearing all the things I could improve in my life from Dad and Dad-In-Law.

Instead, James got to hear my rant. So did the Dads. My skin is tough when it comes to former Hell's Angels. It is the fathers who give me ulcers.

I said, "Look James, do you think I planned this? If you don't have time, I can certainly find someone else to handle this. I understand you are busy." Actually, I was bluffing. Because if he takes me off his preferred clientele list, I don't really have a back up.

James backed off with a sincere Southern apology ("I am sorry Ma'am, I know this must be tough for you. I know you didn't plan these things to happen. You just call me when you are ready and I will be there.")

This morning, at some horrid hour, my phone rang. It was James. He was at Wayward's home. And he decided to install everything he could and leave the rest for later. He just wanted me to know. Right then and there. Apparently, this was his idea of a truce.