Keeping an eye on the checkbook

This post is not about what you think it's about. Well, not yet, anyway, though you know how I love to veer off on tangents. But this story is about my personal checkbook, my son, and Manu.

Manu is a lovely man, who has built several rock walls for us over the years. He does a great job, and is just as nice as can be. Last night, while i was out, Manu showed up, looking for work. Times are tough all over apparently, and no one is looking to have new walls built, since they are worried more about keeping a roof over their heads, I guess.

So Manu showed up last night, to follow up on a bid he had given us several months back. He had given us a pretty high bid. It was probably a fair price - maybe even a bargain, but still WAY out of our price range. But he is persistent, and knew we had to get this wall built sooner or later - and he decided that sooner would be better. I was out last night with girlfriend and got a phone call from Sami. Manu had dropped his price by more then 50% - should he accept the bid ?

Since Sami was the one who would be stuck building the wall if Manu didn't, I left it completely up to him - but told him that the price was a total steal. We would never find someone to build a better wall at a lower price. He agreed, and asked me to have a check for Manu for the deposit the next day.

Fast forward to today - the next day.
I am in the shower, shaving my legs. This only happens once a week or so, and it is a project. So I am in there, all soaped up, wrangling the razor and letting my conditioner soak in - and Max (who is 7 years old) opens the bathroom door.

"Mom. That guy is here. With the rocks. Do you want me to write him a check ?"

"That guy" was apparently standing just outside my bathroom. And I was in there without any clothes or a robe or anything. I told Max I would be right out. He repeated my words to Manu, and again asked if he could write the check. I shouted at him to close the bathroom door, which he did, thankfully. Because otherwise a wet, naked, seriously pissed mommy was going to come barreling out of the bathroom to give both Max and Manu a piece of my mind.

You know, I understand that I am not the only mother who never uses the bathroom alone. I see the futility in even bothering to close the door when I go in there. But I'll be damned if my son and my mason are going to interrupt my once-a-week attempt at grooming. I mean really. So I finished my task, ran cross the hall in a towel, and threw on a sundress in order to write the check MYSELF despite Max's protestations. I am sure Manu thought the whole thing was hysterical. Max was just aggravated.

He probably invited the whole crew in and offered to open some beers while I was finishing up. He's good like that.