I’ve never been great at remembering to engage my brain before speaking.  Or at all, really.  I think these conversations over the last day or so sum that up quite well:

Himself:  Isn’t that plant the weed we pulled out of the gutter?

Me: Yes.  But I felt so guilty for making it homeless I gave it a new one.

Himself: …..

(It’s pretty though, isn’t it?)

Me:  *Looking at the very, very end of the sun setting*  The sunsets here are so beautiful.  Do you think they were this lovely when we lived in the old house?

Himself:  No, I imagine someone improved the sunsets just for us when we moved in here…

Himself: *Fixing a hose winder thingy to the wall*  Could you just check you can reach it ok and that you’re happy the bins can fit in the gap next to it?

Me: Yes.  *Lifting bin lid scattering all screws, tools and fixings into the gravel (which I saw, but didn’t really see)* Oooopsie

Himself: Well, at least we know that the bin lid opens ok still…

And today:

The painter man: *Pointing out the post that’s just been delivered*  Um.  Who is Princess Pog?’

Me:  Oh, that’s me. *opening parcel*  Ooooh.  It’s llama poo!

The painter man: Right.  Anyway, it’s probably time I finished for the day…

:o)