dividing my time.

So I had every intention of writing lots of really, really interestingly awesome posts this weekend.

I thought about explaining the phenomenon that occurred when a sale, adorableness, whining, and short supply combined to pressure me into purchasing two Halloween costumes instead of the zero that I was planning.

Or the funny sayings that Millie and Ellis threw out Friday night. And in my head I remember saying, I have to get that on the blog. But my head forgot and another moment has been lost to time.

So instead I will tell you that Clin gave me an amazing gift. 9 hours in front of a computer. To write a grant request and grade papers. So that Saturday eve could be spent with my eyes on the TV instead of the computer. Okay, one screen to another. But it's better than most nights when I attempt to take in two screens. At the same time.

photo via dearsomeone

learnin'

that I don't know:

--how to cross multiply.

--the Pythagorean theorem.

--how to choose a title for a sample paragraph.

--that three angles of a triangle equal 180 degrees.

--many, many, many words. or roots of words.

This is what the GRE is teaching me.

In other news:

I fed cooked coke to missionaries tonight. And they loved it. And it wasn't the decaffeinated kind.

making the food.

A normal evening prepping the dinner. Singing along to this:




And, as usual, the kids scream for me to stop singing.

Me: But I want to be the monkey.

Millie: You can't be the monkey. You don't have the costume.

So true.

suspecting a new suspect.

I had reason to suspect. Oh boy did I ever.

When Mr. Furnace showed up, the first thing he said was:

Did you change the batteries?

Um, batteries?

Me, trying to address my stupidity. You know. To make me feel not so stupid: I'm going to feel really stupid if you came all the way out here just to change a battery.

And then he took the thermostat off the wall. No battery.

HA, HA! I don't have to feel stupid. There really is a problem with this thing.

And then he went downstairs to further inspect the furnace.

One second later, the heat came on.

Mr. Furnace: Your furnace switch was off.

Um...okay. Feeling worse about a switch than a battery, I didn't even bring the topic up.

Instead, I let him pretend that he was servicing the furnace. To make the visit seem as if it was worth the $45.00 he was about to charge me.

suspect.

At times I think that perhaps we have purchased a money pit. Friday night I flashed back to that movie. (Tom Hanks and Shelley Long. Man I loved it. You so did too.) Home from a much needed night out, and our garage door crashed to the ground.

It didn't hit anything. But the ground.

Saturday morning we learned that our garage door does not stay up on its own without a working door opener. And I became the early morning opener as Clin drove away to rehearsal. And that door is heav.vy.

Clin slow poked it to the car. And I yelled. Yeah. Unheard of from me. But you would have too. With both hands above my head.

Leave. Get in the car and go. I'm about to vomit.

I should have. I should have let it all out. To help emphasize the weight of that 6:30 AM weekend door.

So I returned to bed to think upon the pit. And noticed a cold. And quiet. As in no heat.

Which launched me from bed to find what I feared. Thermostat blank.

Money pit confirmed.

grossed out.

There is nothing worse than stickers on skin.

(Well, maybe long finger nails.)

But just looking at this picture makes me vomit a little.

Thank goodness the girls have one parent who allows them sticker fun.

Because I cannot go there.

Ugh.

Just posting this.....

makes me want to close my computer.

Now.

breaking for treats.

Oh, the glories of buying groceries with only one child in tow.

And to celebrate, I decided to spend a couple shiny quarters at the deli counter for a delicious beverage of my choosing.

On the way, we just happened to pass the pastry counter with a large plastic container practically throwing chocolate chip cookies into our mouths.

Why thank you! Yes, I will take one for my child. None for me. No, I'm saving space for the refreshing nectar that will soon be flowing from a red and
white cup.

Ready to behold my reflection in the dark liquid smiling at me through the plastic lid, anticipating the touch of red straw to lips, we approached the counter with one hopeful and one chocolate smile.

And as the attendant smiled in return and walked toward me we were interrupted. By an older woman. Smiling as well. And I thought:

Yes. She is looking forward to the solitude of shopping while sipping from a straw as well.

So I didn't mind the interruption. I could wait two more minutes for refreshment.

The woman proceeded to say to the attendant:

I would like to thank you for offering caffeine free drinks at the fountain.

And she walked away. She didn't even wait for a reply. And perhaps I should have taken it as a hint. That I too should walk away. But I didn't. I handed over my coins. Even took the time to search for pennies and give exact change.

But I was going to enjoy my sweet, sweet trip down the aisle. I mean what's better than a child with cookie and a woman with diet joy? Nothing, I argue.

And I wondered, what timing? And if this ever happens to people in other states? I mean, what are the odds?

photo via williamhartz