Milestone

in·ven·tor -–noun
a person who invents, esp. one who devises some new process, appliance, machine, or article; one who makes inventions
(from www.dictionary.com)

So as I am out making daisy chains, dancing in the moonlight, reading my horoscope and watching Sylvia Browne every Wednesday morning on “Montel,” my hard-at-work husband is knee-deep in nuts and bolts, swimming through blue prints, navigating design software and picking out shards of plastic and metal that inevitably find their way into his hands while he builds stuff. We are different. And that’s what we love about each other.

When I come home from work (3 hours a week), Andrew asks me, “How was your day?” and I reply, “Shitty.” “Oh, honey…what happened???”

“No. Seriously. It was Shitty. I was up to my calves in goat shit! It was really wet on the farm today, and I was unloading twelve 50lb. bags of feed. The feed bags were weighing me down, and I could hardly walk!” I suppose my boss could call me a “shitty employee” and technically it would be a compliment, as it would mean I was hard at work and covered in, well, shit.

My husband however, has a much more traditional job. He’s a mechanical engineer. So when HE comes home from work and I ask, “How was your day,” it’s usually the same old-same old…”I designed some stuff, my parts were late, we went out to lunch, this one guy told a really funny story, this other guy sucks…etc. etc.” Kind of like his DC job, except without the “and I sat in traffic for 3 hours” part. So you can imagine my surprise, pride and delight, when I posed my usual after work query and was answered with…

“I have a patent pending. Actually, I have 6. And I will be compensated.”

Wow! That’s just about the coolest thing I have ever heard (the patent, not the involuntary ‘ca-CHING!’ that went off in my head…) Ain’t nobody givin’ me a patent for dodging getting mounted by the bucks for their evening feeding. No one is handing out prizes for wiping my kids’ noses (or hineys), most stories read, or kisses given (or received!) And no one is waiting for my acceptance speech for “Greatest Number Felines” (4, and counting…) I am so amazed by the fact that my husband can now add “INVENTOR” to his resume! To someone like me (who appreciates creativity), that’s just very admirable.

Anyone with a pencil can call themselves a “writer” (tragic and true.) Anyone who waits tables for a job can say, “I’m an [out of work] actor!” And people who aren’t satisfied with their job title simply add “technician” or “engineer” to the end of their name to pump up their self worth. (side note: when I was 14, I worked as a “scooper” in an ice cream shop. Up until I discontinued using the shop as a reference on my resume, I would put “Dairy Products Technician” as my job title. True Story. Hey wait…my life has come full circle…I AM a “Dairy Products Technician” again! Well, actually, “Milk Maid” sounds way cuter! Nevermind…) But you must qualify to be an inventor! I am thankful for the endless piles of notebooks filled with drawings and calculations strewn about our home office. As I write, he is in the next room, making a model of yet another invention out of a Cheerios box and a hole puncher. I’m happy that he doesn’t make his career by schmoozing over long lunches or hiding in his “cube” until his boss walks away so he can waste company productivity by surfing the internet rather than being constructive. He’s from the Old School…work hard, produce, get paid.

A huge congratulations goes out to my husband, THE INVENTOR! From: The Childcare Administrator; Director, Domestic Operations; Milk Maid, “Writer” (ha ha); Feline Social Services Interventionalist; Household Janitorial Engineer and Superintendent; Future Family Counselor for Parents of Children with Disabilities and PROUD WIFE!