1) I feel like I need to start off today with a disclaimer. This week has been especially busy, making me one tired chicky, so today's quick takes may lack its usual wit and sparkling commentary (are you rolling your eyes yet?).
There. You've been warned.
2) Miss Innocent One has the gift of gab. She inherited it from her father. This girl can take a simple sentence like, "Mary got sick at school today," and turn it into a twenty minute play by play account of what led up to the sickness and everyone's reaction along the way (hey, maybe she's destined to be a writer!).
So you'll forgive me, or at least understand, if I tell you I'm not always on the edge of my seat as she tells her stories. God must be trying to tell me something, though, because lately she's calling me on my poor listening skills.
In the middle of her discourse on what happened at school that day I thought she referred to the wart on the bottom of her foot.
"I need to put more of that stuff on it," she said.
"It hasn't been two weeks," I reminded her. The freezing medicine I bought had specific instructions full of warnings to follow the directions to the letter. "Is it flaking away at all yet?"
"No." She gave me a puzzled look. "Well, I put some more on it today, but next time I want to use the stick stuff."
Immediately I cued in better. The medicine is not to touch any flesh other than the wart or it can damage the tissue. I thought I made it clear she needed me to do it for her.
"You put it on yourself?" I asked.
"Yeah."
"How did you do that? You have to use the stick thing."
Now she was confused. "I just rubbed it on."
"Honey, you can't do that. Didn't it hurt your finger? I told you I needed to help you with that."
"What?! You gave it to me and said I could use it."
"On your wart?"
"Mom, I'm talking about the stuff for the cork on my saxophone."
Oops. Maybe I need to start paying more attention.
3) Disappointment set in when I discovered how our Toy Named Earl got its name. Apparently, it was a bag from Earl May.
Somehow that sucks the fun right out of that story.
4) I was working on my computer and a fly joined me, walking all over my screen. Does it make me strange if it made me smile, like I had a little friend along for the journey? Oscar (all friends need names, right?) rubbed his little hands together as if to spur me on saying, "Okay, Tami. Let's be brilliant." Who knew flies could be so inspiring?
See. I told you I was a tired girl this week.
5) I went to bed last night to find all of my kids, who'd been sent to bed earlier, in Drama Queen's bedroom whispering. When they heard footsteps on the stairs they quickly dispersed to make it look like they were all still in the process of getting there. Miss Innocent One, not used to making up excuses was left to face the music with me.
"Why are you guys up talking? You're supposed to be in bed."
She flashed me her sweetest smile and shrugged. "We're just saying stuff."
Aah, well that makes it all better, doesn't it? Oh brother. I gotta say it's hard to get mad at them when they were actually enjoying each other, but why does their camaraderie usually involve a plot against the parents?
6) We've been resisting the urge to turn our heater on all week. The temperature is cool in the mornings, but very comfortable by 4 or 5 in the afternoon. Since I'm the only one home until then, it hardly seems worth it to fire up the beast downstairs to heat the house for little old me. The trouble is our house is shielded by big, old, beautiful trees, so we don't get much sunlight in to warm the house during the day, which is great in the summer, but on a cool fall morning, not so hot (literally). I've been FREEZING all week. One night I slept in long pants, t-shirt, hooded sweatshirt (with the hood UP!), fuzzy slipper socks and piles of blankets on top. I'm not sure my husband could have found me if he wanted to. It would have been a process of peeling off layers saying, "Tami, are you in there?" I thoroughly enjoyed feeling all hunkered down like I was in a cave and finally WARM, but the looks of my family the next morning suggested they thought my ensemble less than sane.
7) This weekend starts the high school marching band competition season. We'll go watch Drama Queen/Drummer GIRL do her thing for the next few Saturdays. Her band teacher told us last night at parent teacher conferences, "She's pretty high strung.," which of course we were fully aware of, but I know it's her determined, whip it into shape attitude that's taken her from oboe player to center stick snare in two years time. She's a kick, our Drama Queen. She can do anything she sets her mind to. Personally, I wish I had more of her fiery spirit and determination. Go get 'em, babe! You are terrific!
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