Seven Middle of the Week Takes

1.  We recently had one of Sarah's friends stay overnight while her mother had a baby.   She brought with her a purple scooter covered in Disney princesses.  Noticing that she had forgotten to take the scooter with her, Joseph generously offered to run with the scooter and drop it off at her house.  I don't think he completely thought this through.  I just looked out the window as Joseph began a mile run carrying a purple Disney princess scooter over his shoulders.  I hope he runs fast.

2.  Come to think of it, this might be a familial trait.  Another friend of ours walked over yesterday with her double stroller and two of her children.  For a variety of reasons, I drove her home and she left the stroller here.  I haven't yet decided if I will load the stroller into the truck or run it over there empty.  The latter option casts my mind back to the odd women in my childhood who through some sad circumstance of life pushed empty strollers or dolls in strollers.  I'm not yet sure if I am ready to identify with that crowd.

3.  I cracked open ten eggs this morning to make scrambled eggs.  All of these eggs came from the same carton.  Eight of them contained double yolks.  That's one fertile hen!  I think she has reason to consider NFP.

4.  Holy Week snuck up on me.  Life has been very full lately, but I think the persistent presence of snow hasn't allowed any of us to fully enter into the coming of Easter.  Yesterday it was a glorious 20 degrees and the mothers of this town (strollers in hand) escaped their houses en masse.  Today it was back down to 5 degrees.  The other night, while lying in bed and listening to freezing rain mixed with snow come down outside the window, I was bitten by a mosquito.  Strange climate zone.

5.  Sarah told me recently that if my hair goes grey, I will have to ask Jesus to change it back to brown.  Then her more practical side kicked in, "Or, you could just dye it."

6.  A few weeks ago I backed Dave's truck into the pillar protecting the propane tanks at the gas station.  (Yes, the truck is Dave's.  The stroller is mine.)  Confused, Dave asked how I could possibly have hit something when the truck has a back-up camera.  I shyly answered that I had become fixated on watching someone at the pumps who reminded me of someone's son on a blog that I had once read.  I vaguely remember all the other gas-station patrons perplexedly watching me.  The really sad thing is that the pillar wasn't even close to where I had parked.  It was a full 25 metres away.  My mother told me that I still didn't have her beat, as she had once backed into the one car in a very large and almost empty parking lot.

7.  And here's the saddest part:  I just checked my last post and I had already recorded the previous story.