Day 277

My husband was visiting over the long weekend.  For those of you who are neither related to me nor regular readers, that may sound strange.  The short explanation is that we are a military family and right now circumstances dictate that he lives in Texas while we live in Colorado.*

In many ways my husband, Trigger, is pretty typical for someone who is career military.  Let’s just say, flexibility, isn’t his middle name.  And while I also like things to go according to plan; compared to him, I look like a Cirque de Soleil contortionist.   He is definitely a fan of order and rules and believes there is a right tool for every job.  For instance, it really bugs him to blow his nose with toilet paper instead of a tissue, because that is not its intended purpose and drives him crazy when I wet the end of a towel to wash my face instead of using a washcloth.

In most cases, it has served him well, but it does make him a bit hesitant to use, uh, alternative fixes.  For instance, he would NEVER pound a nail using a high heel or a can of Kalamata olives, both of which I have found at one time or another to serve as perfectly acceptable alternatives to a hammer.

Which is why it was so surprising to come downstairs on Sunday morning to this.

In lieu of a whisk, which is on his list of mandatory supplies to make pancakes for the children, he used the beater attachment from the electric mixer.  Now this may seem to some of you as a pretty similar item, but believe me, for my husband, this was a big step.  In the spirit of The Simple Year, he decided if we didn’t have a whisk, he would find an alternative solution.

I was very proud of him, and almost felt bad telling him the whisk was just in the dishwasher.  But, then I remembered I have seen him open a bottle of beer in a hotel room using the hinge on the bathroom vanity.

I guess extreme circumstances call for extreme measures.

*If you didn’t get a chance to read about our current living situation, take a look at my Home Again post .