Overheard

At work:

A four-year old had just scribbled a bunch of stuff on a piece of paper while he watched his older siblings practice their writing. He handed it to his mom.

Boy: Hey mom! Read this!!
Mom: Well, I can’t read it. It doesn’t say anything.
Boy: Oh. That’s OK. It’s French!

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An older patient was working on really basic speech goals. The task of the day was yes/no questions.

Me: Are you a man?
Her: What? Well, hell no I’m not a man! I’m a Sagitarius!

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At home:

J has been working hard on learning all the barnyard animals and what they say. Right now, they all say “neigh.” I took the kids to my old campus recently, just to get them a look at a different kind of school than the one that’s close by that their dad went to that’s really big and scary and impersonal. We bought shirts in the bookstore and D has been picking on them ever since. When J wore her shirt for the first time, this is what happened:

D: J, what does your shirt say?!
J: nnnnnneeeeeeeeiiiiiiiiiigggggggghhhhhhhhhhh.

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A was getting really frustrated with a particular toy the other night. D was doing his best to teach him the value of patience and persevering until the job was done, but it just ticked A off even more. He looked right at D and said:

“I’m done with this. I’m retiring.”

Yay for the COW!!

The kids and I spent the weekend at my mom’s since D was on call this weekend. We’ve decided it’s best for us to get out of his hair on those weekends when he’s unusually grumpy and gets a million phonecalls. It was fun. The best part of the weekend was going here and watching them run themselves into the ground. Seriously. They both played so hard they were sweating...and slightly stinky!! Makes me long for summer months...

The second best part of the weekend happened on the way home today. We stopped at my alma mater, and I was all filled with nostalgia and good memories of college. It’s funny...I drive through the campus probably 5 times a year, and every time some “new” old memory makes its way into my brain to make me smile. Today I was remembering what it was like to move in on that first day. I drove past my first-year dorm and my senior year dorm, and tried to remember all the growing that happened between those two rooms... Anyway, I had to exercise tremendous restraint not to get on the phone to my two best friends and share the memory of our wonderful years there together. I’ll never forget that move-in day, when I walked into that little dorm room and found my roommate’s Bible open on the bookshelf above her desk. She is a PK, but it did freak me out a little. Until I learned all the much more awful things I could’ve found when I walked into that room... and until I learned that I think (although she hasn’t yet admitted to it) that it was all for show. My other girlfiend and I (the one with whom I cried on the phone until the wee hours the night before we graduated) often talk about how great we had it “back then,” that we didn’t have any responsibilities to speak of, that we were just learning independence and didn’t have anyone else to take care of...

...but neither of us would choose to go back there. Well, at least for any length of time. I might do it for a day. Maybe a week (because wouldn’t college courses be SO much better now?).

But life as I know it now, with its craziness and responsibilities, is so very sweet...