Boys Is Boys

I'm raining down delighted destruction upon some of the more errant of my eyebrow hairs when I hear, wafting up from the livingroom,

"I think I have some duct tape in the truck."

I freeze, tweezers poised, and yell, "You are not duct-taping the walls!"  Silence from below, then a muttered,

"...think she'd let us duct tape the window?"

I roll my eyes at my reflection, but it's counterbalanced by the wave of affection swelling up in my bosom.  You see, the person threatening duct tape on my dwelling is my brother, who has come down for a visit.  He and Nathan have teamed up for the very serious masculine pursuit of Watching Football, but in order to watch the next game (Oregon vs LSU) they needed an antenna (which Nathan went out and bought) but more importantly they need the antenna to work, so apparently now they are now... doing things to get it to work.

I think I hear Nathan say something about painter's tape (I relax ever-so-slightly at that) and the next clear snippet of conversation that floats up is him saying,

"You hold,  I'll tape."

Which makes me giggle.  Few things in life make me so happy as having my loved ones near, and the combination of my husband and my brother, those two most beloved males, is enough to put me into Constant Purr Mode.  I finish up my eyebrows and decide to join them...

...and they've left me a spot on the couch.

(That's the Georgia game on the smaller screen.)