...and his eighty-hour work weeks, his thirty-six hour shifts, his months of slave labor with Dr. Napoleonstein, and a salary that works out to roughly $10/hour (after seven years of post-college education), you'll be happy to hear that he's having an easy month.
Yeah, a lift weights, play Star Wars tunes and watch ESPN all morning, go in to the hospital around noon, hang out there until around four, kind of month.
And when he's at work, he's not really working. He's doing something called "nuclear cardiology" this month, which in my lay-person's estimation, can be defined as "sit around and shoot the breeze while listening to your iPod and playing video games."
To make things even more blissful for Eddie, he's working with two other fellows, who even though they're older than we are and are both married, seem to be living in a prolonged state of adolescence. One of them is a thirtysomething Seth Cohen. Cute, talkative, and when you get to know him, really kind of nerdy. He's even married to an adult version of Summer. The other guy drives a Porsche. Eddie drives a Dodge Neon older than any of our children.
Now Eddie's the kind of guy who loves hanging out with the family, playing ball with the boys, watching movies, and most of all, watching sports. When he comes home from work he usually doesn't talk much about his day ("yeah honey, inserting those catheters today was so cool"), but the last few days, he's had a lot to talk about. On Friday he came home and downloaded a bunch of video games, and spent the weekend knocking out Mike Tyson with Bryce. Yesterday, he came home with two new favorite websites: defamer.com (celebrity gossip) and gizmodo.com (strange electronic devices). He's been playing Richard Cheese's lounge singer version of the Sir-Mix-A-Lot classic "Baby Got Back" ever since his friends introduced him to it the other day. Now he's talking about going to play poker with these guys.
When we got old and mature enough to have kids, I always figured it would be the kids whose friends I'd be worried about. But after nine years of marriage my husband continues to surprise me.
At least I'm secure in the fact that there will be no Porsche in our future. Where would we put all of the car seats?
Oh, and in other news, my mom is going to be here for a week. She tends to keep me busy so I probably won't be writing much.
--originally published 2/7/06
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