Monday, October 24, 2016


I hate this election and everything about this election, and have started many a blog post to tell you just that. Instead, I am going to tell you how I took Wil out to lunch at the most disgusting "restaurant" after church on Sunday, and it and everything about it was doomed from the start. First of all, the place was hard to find. The only reason we were going there was because he'd done his research, and they served Tropicana fruit punch from a self-serve dispenser, and what's better than that? The line to order was miserably long. And slow. Lots of little old ladies and their coupons. Lots of inefficiency and disorganization. I wanted to turn and walk out a number of times.

Wait, we did, and when we finally got our food, Wil tore into a tub of barbecue sauce and it sprayed his coat, covering his front and both sleeves. I helped him out of it, pulling it inside out and placing it in the re-usable bag I always carry in my purse. We finally finished our "meal," hurried home, and I threw the inside-out coat and the re-useable bag, in the wash and started it.

Heard a clunk-clunk-clunk but was all about getting into my walking clothes, and getting outside. Came home, pulled out the coat and thought it felt awfully heavy. It was then that I put it all together, and realized I'd not gone through the pockets, and of course, Wil's phone was in one of them.

Now, it's not a smart phone or anything fancy, but he loves it and we want him to have it for all the reasons people want and need phones. We carry insurance on it because believe you me, this is not its first run-in with water. Not two months ago we replaced it because it went in a swimming pool, after he deliberately took it from his shorts, and put it into his swim trunks, got in, then reached in his pocket to make a text before realizing what had just happened.

I get it.

He was super cute when I told him the bad news. He just kind of smiled that, You're a real piece of work smile, and I assured him we'd get it replaced, AGAIN, and he'd be back in business, AGAIN, but we'd have to wait around all day for the UPS delivery tomorrow, AGAIN.

Today, before we headed out to run our errands, he ran back in the house. When he met me in the car he said, "I wrote you a note so you wouldn't forget to take my phone out of the pockets before you wash my coat, next time."

No promises.

Sorry Not Sorry

I'm sorry I keep pointing you towards BrenĂ© Brown's podcast,  Unlocking Us , but I'm not that  sorry.* I've appreciated ever...