Birthdays, Bumps and Babysitters

Meet the newest three year old in our neighborhood as he is introduced to his new bff Mike the Mower. He is also the proud owner of a new Home Depot blower, a hand vac that I believe may be the younger brother of the floor vacuum we already tolerate on a regular basis and their distant cousin, the talking broom. Tragically, the blower broke approximately 2.2 minutes after changing the batteries in an attempt to fix its lagging motor noises. Poor D. This was by far his favorite toy. He w-a-i-l-e-d when I told him we would have to send it back and get a new one that worked. “I. Don’t. Huuup. Want. To. Send. It. Baaaack.”

Tragic. He’s sleeping with the (blissfully) silent blower now. There was a 30 minute round of negotiations to determine the sleeping arrangements of the handvac and mower, however. All are quietly enjoying a sleepover in the livingroom.


I had my CT scan last week and saw Dr. V to go over the results. Guess what? I’m gonna live! It, apparently, is really nothing more than an over-developed muscle. Other than that… I am as healthy as a horse and Dr. V says, “you’ll be around for a good long time, I think.”

Mmmmmm-wwwwwaa! I love her. I love good news.


However, this next topic puts the fear of God in me. Somehow, we have left our Wonder Sitter feeling taken for granted and taken advantage of. She is very, very upset with us and said the “N” word. Notice.

This woman has become more family to us in the last three years than many of our true relatives. She has been named guardian of our kids should anything happen to us. She is D’s aide at preschool. I don’t know what we would do without her. Take advantage of her? Absolutely. She offers. We accept. Take her for granted? Not in a million years. Not one second of three years.


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