Complex Numbers

One Sunny Saturday

It's not hot, it's not cold - though there's a bit of a nip in the air in the shade - so instead of starting on the dozens of reviews I somehow talked myself into owing, I had to go help my wife with home maintenance crap.

Home maintenance, in this case, meant: 1) measuring the chimney (we're getting a gas fireplace to replace our downstairs woodstove insert) and 2) sweeping leaves, twigs and other debris out of our gutters, while pruning overhanging branches to reduce the need for said maintenance in the future. Also, incidentally, 3) checking for soft spots in the roof so we know whether we need to replace all our shingles or also the plywood sheathing, since we had to climb up on the roof anyway.

Thing is, I weigh substantially more than my wife, and I have a bad back (which conditions are most likely related), so my job was basically to hold the ladder while she climbed up onto the roof, hand her the broom, the measuring tape and a saw, and stand there ready to call an ambulance if she slipped.

Since my job mostly involved standing around, I lit a cigar and watched from the front yard. So there's my wife, working her cute little butt off on the roof, while I leaned against a tree and relaxed.

The neighbors gave me dirty looks.

It reminded me of a joke: This guy's sitting on his porch with a drink while his wife's mowing the lawn. The neighbor lady comes up to him and says, "How dare you sit on your ass while your wife does all the work? Why... you should be hung!"

"I am - that's why she's doing the work."