My husband and I recently took on the task of refinishing the wood floors in three rooms that constitute our downstairs living areas — family room, dining room and miscellaneous room. We're not sure what to call it. Some days it's the sunroom, other days the napping room. Right now, if I am being honest, it is the gaming room.
Things I learned today: Some of the most unexpected actions might make you a hero. Others do not. If you are a parent, this pretty much goes with the territory. For me, it's been this way since the diaper years. When you change a diaper on time, you are a hero. When you fail to smell the stinky-poo, you are less than heroic.
Lately my hands have taken a beating, and I have no one to blame but myself. It happens around this time each year. Spring has sprung and all that jazz. With spring comes gardening and gardening comes with a cost — to my poor bare hands.
We never mastered the barbecue grill. Oh, we tried, of course — in the early years of our marriage. We charred countless chicken breasts and burned a multitude of steaks. Shrimp-on-the-barbie was never as it was supposed to be. No amount of barbecue sauce could salvage our calamities. Our collective lack of grilling ability was so expansive we even managed to light our patio on fire once. We didn't want to be quitters and blamed our failures on the charcoal. The embers were unpredictable — like Goldilocks' porridge either too hot or too cold.
The Table has been a part of my life for as long as I can remember. When I was a child, it was my fortress; I crawled under it, learning every crack and crevice from the underside. It seemed massive from my little girl perspective — larger than life. The Table held a revered position in the household. It was old; older than all of us put together — and that even included my dad. It was old, but it was perfect, from the intricately carved claw feet to the highly polished, pristine ebony top with grooved edge.
There are certain things in life that prudent, forward-thinking people avoid. Like putting their tongue on a frozen metal fence, or being outnumbered by their kids. Certain actions just aren't wise and some can even get you into trouble. These are things, that if you are thinking logically, you will never do. For instance, you should never: Litter. Eat crackers in bed. Smoke in bed — or anywhere for that matter. Overflow the bathtub. Overflow the toilet (even worse).
It was an unassuming Sunday afternoon. I had to venture to the store for a few items. It was a leisurely excursion. Unlike most days, I wasn't in a hurry and indulged in the luxury of lollygagging my way through the aisles. Picture a normal, average shopper in the camping department examining flashlights — commonplace, ordinary and routine. That's me. Or maybe not. I didn't think I looked overly suspicious, but apparently I was. Either that or it was a slow day in the store detective department, because it wasn't long before I had one following me.
She was mad — one might even describe it as cataclysmically livid. She focused her ire at the entire family and made us aware of her displeasure with a decidedly cold shoulder and stiff whiskers. We all knew the cause of her chagrin and weren't about to give in to her demands. She gave us a silent, loathing stare with piercing green eyes while standing expectantly by the back door. Her intense gaze was unrelenting — as were we.
Never underestimate the power of a single piece of paper — especially if the paper in question is a genuine and authentic Certificate. My first grader came home with such a document this week. He brings papers from school just about every day. They are crunched and bent to fit inside his backpack. His Certificate was neither creased nor folded. It was held with great care and attentiveness, in his little hands, where he could keep it safe from the crowding and crinkling hazards lurking inside his backpack.
We'd been looking forward to the week for months. We planned, and packed, and prepared to play. The months of waiting became weeks, the weeks became days and then it was here: vacation! Seven days of perfectly choreographed bliss — or maybe not. Our trip took us on a journey to visit the world's most famous Mickey. It's one of our favorite destinations because it's a place where grown adults wear silly-looking mouse ears on their heads while dining on oversized, overpriced turkey legs and no one thinks that's weird. Oh, and there are the rides and attractions.