The baby is on the roof!

Some days, you simply wonder where the time went.

Last week (and there'll be time, I'm sure, sometime, to fill you in on where I've been) in the late evening hours, the kid comes bounding up the stairs, to where I am on the computer. "Mom!"
he says, " it's raining!" Well, yes, dear, it's raining, it's rained every day for quite a few days, I'm really getting tired of the mud!... but NO! He means "it's raining on me, while I lay on the couch, in the living room downstairs." HUH???

We both bolt into his room (over the living room) to see a steady stream (really, a stream!) of water pouring down his wall.

Now, folks... this house was built about the turn of the century... the previous century.
And the roof is original to the house and has served us well all of these years, thanks in no small part to the fact that my husband is part mountain goat, and part expert fix it guy.
So, I call him up and say "uhm... can you bring home some of that roof paint when you come?"

Poor, poor guy... he knows just what this means.

Then, Saturday morning dawns clear and warm. (alright, so it wasn't warm,,, so it was hot as the oven right before you put biscuits in!)

There is manly discussion over the breakfast table between father and son and all kinds of rustling about. I am blissfully distracted by my coffee, and my comfy chair. The banging about on the roof begins and I go outside and guess what?!?

Folks, the baby is on the roof...! Only the baby is 15, and pretty darned capable. But you know the baby's grown when he climbs up on the roof and does a man's day of work.
Oh, and he got pretty dirty too! (which reminds a mother that there's a wee little lad still in there somewhere!)