A Fair to Remember

Shawn put in four hours at work today. He sat on the floor and scooted across the floor on his rear while painting baseboards and cutting in.

Shawn was in a lot of pain this evening.

Taking a shower was the worst since his first shower after the accident. I have to help him take off socks, shorts, underpants (Studies have shown that "underpants" is 20% funnier than "underwear") knee brace. Help Shawn into shower. I can't really do much since I'm so short. Silently cry a little as he moans in pain. Wipe it up quickly before he sees. Too late. Help Shawn out of shower. Get on underpants, socks, knee brace.

I'm sweating a little now...

With the money we make off eBay and my extra time at work, we should be more than OK. I try to explain this Shawn. He still holds a goal of getting in 20 hours a week. I tell him he could do permanent damage. Stupid donkey.

"I should give you an affair," Shawn says.
"A fair?" I ask. "What fair?"
"No, an affair; like a freebie to cheat, for all you've done for me."
"Phhbbbt!" I say. "Sounds like work. That's all I need. More work!"
We laugh.
"I am gonna take you to a nice dinner and a movie, though," Shawn offers.
"Eh, just clean the house a couple times over and we'll call it even." I know this will never happen. We laugh again.

I probably should be eating more. I'm too tired and busy to eat. I snarf down a sandwich as I work and I'm good. It's good enough.

At work today I tell James I appreciate the way he keeps my basket full; don't get me spoiled.

"Yeah, I'm well-paced," James said.
"Paste?" I ask. "Huh? Paste what?"
"Well-paced. I keep a good pace!"

Oh. Pace. Not paste.

I really should get something to eat.