Up on the Rooftop

Photo courtesy of melih_ozcanli, via Flickr 

Santa was very good to us this year.  But, that's not what this post is about.  This is about the real gift this year.  That after falling off of the roof back in October onto his head, that my husband is alive.  Although, he might not be for long.  Because it's entirely possible with the dumbass things he  does, that I may be forced to kill him.

In social circles I always get the sarcastic, "So's Craig been up on the roof?"

And the person asking always gets more than they bargained for.

"So, lemme tell ya this story…"

 I've told you before how we found out after we returned from living in Morocco that our house settled by 3 inches in our absence.  This may sound insignificant, but when we arrived home in June, to our house that doesn't have air conditioning, we opened the windows almost immediately. And it let in the balmy breeze, until we realized, we couldn't close our stupid crank out windows from the 80's all the way.  There was an inch or so gap. 

Before winter approached, we covered the windows with plastic and duct tape from the outside.  Anxious to see if the house would settle more before we fixed anything.  We already knew we weren't going to have the house jacked back up to level to the tune of $80,000.  But, we did know we would be getting new windows skewed on the same crooked line as the house so they appeared straight.

Just as we took off our ghetto window wrapping, the crazy Colorado winds came.  And they blew the window to Sky's bedroom clean off.  Yeah, that's how strong the wind gets here.  The kid didn't have a window for 2 months.  It was summer!  And he claimed to like the breeze!  And we don't have A/C!  So give me a break people!  We've got a lot going on over here!

Two weeks ago, we had the winds again, blowing at just the right trajectory to threaten our windows.  Except this winter, my husband fell off the roof and nearly died which has slowed him down a bit.  And, it got too cold too quickly to saran wrap the windows.  Which of course would require getting onto the roof. 

This time it was our bedroom window at stake.   And it wasn't a balmy summer breeze, it was a frigid arctic blast.  And the window was blown open to capacity and shimmying, threatening to take flight.   So I pulled it back in and attempted to finger the window shut, but it won't catch the latch.  Continuing to be blown back open.  Over and over.  Finally I tied a rope from the latch on the window to the bed frame.  If the wind was taking the window, it was getting a two for one at this point.  

 When Craig came home from work he examined the window and I left with the kids to chauffeur them to their after school obligations.  When I returned home, the rope was removed and the window pushed in. 

"How did this happen?" I asked knowingly.

"I just went out the other window onto the roof and pushed it in from the outside."  He said innocently.

"Are you fucking kidding me?  There is fucking snow on the roof!  And it's fucking windy as fuck!  And no one was fucking home!  You are not allowed on the fucking roof!"  

And that's how I almost killed my husband two weeks ago, when he almost died two months prior to that.