Lest you think I only use this blog to hawk my wares, today I’ll be using it to bore with you some recent details of my ohsomundane life.
Daughter H14 – yes, that’s right, the Flute Hero (enough already!) – is gone this week to our church’s girls’ camp for the young women in our area. The past two years of girls’ camp in Oregon have been great fun for her, but I must admit things are a little different here in Texas. For instance, the emphatic note on the “things to pack” list: Please bring tennis shoes. You cannot wear flipflops at camp because of the snakes. Hmm, lovely. This year I decided to let her be completely in charge of packing her own stuff. After dropping her off Tuesday morning, I came home to discover the knife, hat, sunglasses, and water bottle she had forgotten to pack. I let it weigh on my conscience for a few minutes (I SHOULD HAVE DOUBLE-CHECKED HER BAG!) before I decided to just let it go. I’m sure her fellow campers will help her out, and besides, I won’t always be there to make little “x’s” next to items on her packing list.
In the meantime, it looks as if my husband has caught Olympic Fever. I should join an Olympic Widows club or something. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy watching certain events (and that men’s swimming 4×100 relay was SOMETHING ELSE) but I tend to doze off during other lower-profile competitions. I definitely petered out last night during the women’s gymnastics – my husband came and woke me up after midnight to report that (surprise!) the US women got silver. When I told him tonight that I was going upstairs to blog, he broke out in a full-blown pout, and was only appeased when I promised I would come down “in just a bit” to watch with him. Ah…the Olympics, bringing the world – and reluctant wives – a little closer.
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