Assuming the Assumptions
2004-09-25, 7:13 p.m.

Saturday�s fortune:

This weekend will challenge your assumptions.

Right on target.

I assumed I would find more goodies than I did at yard sales today. Despite an abundance of sales, there was practically nothing that we needed. I shelled out a buck for some books for Daughter, and 50� for a knight shield and helmet for Son. Our goldfish is the day�s real winner, the recipient of a much bigger bowl with rocks and fake plants for a dollar. What I needed I could not find, which was a decent recliner for this spare room. The ones I found were either torn or pink. I don�t do pink. And I don't do junk either.

I assumed we would get the same great service yesterday from the bottled water company that we have for the past year. First, they screwed up our account, claiming we owed them over $100 when I have paid them faithfully over the phone each month. I hate mailing in bill payments. All the receipts of our payments since the end of May were in the wrong pile of papers. That didn�t inspire my confidence in their bookkeeping system. Second, the delivery guy never showed yesterday. He was to pick up the empties and the cooler, and leave a couple of bottles behind. Instead, we got a big ol� No Show, and are stuck with these things in our way over the weekend. I took back the cooler I got on sale at T@rget and will completely cancel our service on Monday. It was a luxury anyway, and we can certainly �make do� with a pitcher of water in the fridge.

I assumed that being in a fast food restaurant to retrieve supper, I would get mediocre food and mediocre service. Having not been to Ar*by�s in years, was I ever surprised! The place was spotless, the food was great, and I was waited on by a gaggle of COMPETENT, WELL-GROOMED, MANNERLY TEENS. Yes, teens. I may zip a note to the HQ to let them know just how SHOCKINGLY NICE it was. No McSass or McDuh�s like I usually get other places, and they handed me a bag of *real food* instead of prefrozen prefab pressed soy gruel on a bun. The best: they had an easy-to-decipher nutritional analysis guide, with food allergens for every menu item in a special separate list. As parents of a child with a life-threatening peanut allergy, Hubby and I have to go through ingredients with a fine tooth comb before we can let Son touch a food item. Yes, I said touch. He will react to skin contact, not just ingestion. Ar*by�s put it in bold in-yer-face print that everything except the chocolate chip cookies is safe for Son. Put a big ol� check by one more restaurant that we CAN habituate. Sally is a happy girl.

I assumed that I would end up being The Nagging Hag this weekend to get anything accomplished, despite last weekend�s civil war reenactment. Hubby sprang into action with NO REMINDERS and, most importantly, NO POUTING. He assembled all the electronics in the entertainment center in the living room, right down to calibrating the speakers on the surround sound. He neatly bundled all the wires, so there are no strays ruining the view. He taped and painted half the kitchen, and will do the other half when the first side dries. I assume what he will want as his reward. (After all, it�s been nearly a week. Which is all I will say on THAT subject.)

I assume I should wrap this up and get back in the kitchen to help paint and cheer Hubby on. Things are good around here, and that�s NO assumption.

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