I'll have my husband get back to you

In case any of you were wondering, yes, there are still sexist jerks around in 2010.
Okay, so for those of you who don't know me, here's a quick description. I'm about 5 feet, 6 inches tall, about 125 pounds, with reddish-brownish hair and lots of freckles. When I'm not wearing make-up (particularly mascara), I look like I don't have any eyelashes.
So today, I wasn't wearing make-up when the solar panel engineer guy came to our house to take measurements.
Here's how it went down:
The guy was supposed to be here at 2 p.m., by which time I'd planned to have the chicken (touted as delicious whole slow cooker chicken) in the Crock Pot. He showed up at 1:40, when I was in the middle of cutting the skin off the chicken. So I went outside and brought the dogs in, as the solar guy was still sitting in his truck.
A few minutes later, I heard him shouting, "Hello? Hello?"
Yes, he was standing outside the gate, shouting, "Hello?"
So I went outside and he asked if this was the Dartt residence, to which I replied, yes, it is.
So then he says, "Is it your dad?"
I say: "My dad what?"
He flips through his papers and says, "Um .... MrDartt."
"Nope, that's my husband," I answer.
"Is he home?"
"No."
"Okay, so should I just talk to him by phone then?"
"About what?"
"I just want to go over a few things about what will happen next."
"You can talk to me about that."
"Okay. I'll just take some measurements and come back inside."
So he starts heading around the house, and comes back within about 20 minutes, by which time I still haven't gotten the delicious whole slow cooker chicken into the Crock Pot.
"All right," he says, "I'm all done."
"Okay, do you want to come in?" I ask, quite pleasantly.
"Oh, no, I'm pretty much done."
"Didn't you say you had some things to discuss?"
"Oh, well, I answered all my own questions."
Seriously?
I'll bet you five bucks he's on the phone with my husband right now.

Training Wheels

Well, we're getting to the point where Big Boy may officially be big.
He is ready to take the training wheels off his bike.
Last year at this time, we were potty training, so this must be his annual Big Thing.
I remember when he first got this bike, for his second birthday. We helped him ride it around and around and around and around and around our house (there's a kind of "track" in the house, which goes from the front door, through the dining room and kitchen, through the living room, and then back to the front door).
It took him a long time to learn how to pedal on his own, with us helping him, saying, "push," over and over!
So needless to say, now that we're taking off the training wheels, my back is killing me. The first day, MrDartt and I took turns helping Big Boy ride in circles on the driveway (he has much too much speed now to ride inside).
Yesterday was Day Two with no training wheels, and I was on my own. Big Boy kept listing to the right. I kept saying, "you're leaning this way." I made him practice -- I held him up, but leaned him to the right, and coached him to straighten the bike up again.
But again, he was listing to the right.
Finally, after about eight thousand laps of the driveway, I said, "Why do you think you keep leaning this way?"
He said, "Probably because we took my training wheels off."
Right.