Hey, Mrs. Wilson!

Dumb Canadians we are.

I spent the evening at Ann’s doing more painting and such. It was supposed to be just the two of us, when all of a sudden most of her growth group (small group from the church) came by and said that instead of doing a Bible study, they were going to help her finish the suite and do anything else she needed done.

How awesome is that? That is true Christianity. Helping others. Showing love to others. Showing up and doing what needs to be done when you were not asked or expected to do it.

So, instead of Ann and I doing all the work, there were 13 of us.

We ran out of trim paint, so Jeny, Ann, and I whipped over to Wal*mart to get some. While Ann was waiting to have the paint shaken, Jeny and I went to go look at curtains to section off the bedroom-ish inlet thing (more on that later).

The space that needs to be sectioned off is 11 feet long. We were trying to figure out how many inches that is. Um, there are 16 inches in a foot, so 11 x 16 is … what? It took us about 10 minutes to figure that out. There was a lady standing by us who must have killed herself laughing at us Canadian idiots.

Ann came with the shaken paint and we told her what we were trying to do. She looked at us like we’d just told her the sky turned green and said. “Guys. There are 12 inches in a foot, not 16.  There are 16 ounces in a pound.”

“Oh.”

And I call myself a bookkeeper and she (Jeny) a nurse.

It was almost as bad as Harold, with his back to the living room, turning the dimmer switch up and down thinking it didn’t do anything just to be turned around and asked by the painters of the living room what he was doing.

But not quite.

Or maybe we were worse.

What can I say. I grew up with the metric system, eh?