I asked Em to let me take a picture of her tooth. You can’t see the chip so well, but she gave me a pretty darned good impression of Cletus, the Slack Jawed Yokel. I love my little goober.
Em was monkeying around in the bathtub and slipped and bumped her chin. She chipped her top front right (permanent!) tooth and she is very anxious about it. Poor kid.
Which reminded me of how I chipped my teeth.
A reasonably complete map of where the Jayne hats have gone. It doesn’t allow for multiples, so, for instance, if I got ten from Sydney, it only counts once.
Is there a Browncoat near you? I’ll bet there is!
ETA: Dang! You can’t click and zoom like you can on facebook. That was a lot of work for very little payoff! Anybody know another app that’s a little more interactive?
Yesterday went from bad to worse, as my husband was called back into work at 9pm and didn’t get out until 2am. He was called again at 4 in the morning and thankfully was able to consult by phone. He doesn’t normally work with the system he was called to support, but he wrote a perl script and worked some web magic to fix everything up just fine. May I say how very, very lucky the company he works for is to have him?
Anyway, since he was pretty zonked out today, he understandably opted not to come up to the family reunion that was taking place today up at my aunt’s place. It’s a wonderful location, since it’s roomy and welcoming and right next to the stables which she owns, so there’s plenty of land for the kids to play on. Em was thrilled to see her second cousins again, and they all had great fun playing hide and seek. Those are some smart, creative kids, although they all need to stop growing, because it only makes the rest of us look older. Also, I learned that one of my cousins has a husband who is now really, really good with ceramics, so that’s something to keep in mind for Christmas.
I took pictures of the kids playing, but I’ve loaned my digital camera out, so I can’t show you anything at the moment.
While Em and I were off with the family, my husband was able to pop over to see some friends of ours who I really need a catchy LJ moniker for. Their names are Rob and Laura so… the Petries? Anywho, look at the fantastic gift they had! A detailed star chart with glow in the dark stars and pictures of all the constellations! It’s even mounted in such a way that you can rotate it with the month so it stays accurate to what you’d see in the sky. I guess someone at the Petries’ house has outgrown their star fascination, but believe me when I say that Emily was delighted to receive this. So thank you, Petries! Em is very stoked about going to bed tonight. It’s a cloudy night, but she’s got her glow in the dark star chart!
Speaking of which, it’s time to get her bathtime/bedtime rituals started, so I’m off for now. Here’s hoping a good day continues into a good night – with no calls from work!
This morning, I felt great. I ate well, got a lot of knitting done, took a 2+ mile walk, and Em came home from school in a great mood. Then, weirdly, I just kind of started to… crash. I was having to hold back irritation with Em’s same questions over and over (a natural kid tendency which gets amplified by the autism), I didn’t feel like hanging out the clothes I’d washed, I got oversensitive in a response to someone on the internet. Y’all know me, I don’t get my knickers in a knot easily, recent post office escapades notwithstanding.
So I was sitting here in the den, just feeling awful for no apparent reason, trying to think of what I could do to shake this funk. There were little birds hopping around outside gathering leaves for their nest. I decided to pull off a little twist of Pat’s roving and stick it on the fence for nesting materials. And sure enough, I did feel more calm. For about two minutes. I kind of put my hand up to my forehead in a “man, I really need to make a therapy appointment” moment, and that’s when the Mom Hands ™ kicked in.
Sure enough, the thermometer verifies that I have a 100 degree fever.
Oddly, although I am apparently actually sick, I feel better knowing that. I wasn’t just being depressed and freaky for no reason whatsoever. So that’s a good thing. I’ll sit here and rest and see if any of Pat’s roving flies away on little wings.
Ladies and gentlemen, Hell has finally frozen over, and the cows have come sliding home.
I am the #1 nicest lady in the world.
Now that everyone is lulled into a false sense of security, my plan for world domination can commence. Release the hounds!
ETA: Nuts! Apparently I’m #2 in the UK and #3 in Australia. Brits and Aussies, get with the program!
Well, this gives me more time to breed my army of Tasmanian sabertooth badgers.
At last night’s knit night, I wound up telling the tale of the postal clerk several times. Everyone was appropriately outraged, as I was by the time I got there that night. It was pointed out that since it was assault on federal property, it was probably a felony. I love the way my friends leap to my defense. Y’all are great.
The more I think about yesterday’s unpleasantness with the postal worker, the angrier I get. That guy would never have hit a male patron on the head. Ever. And I can’t excuse his behavior as being because he’s a teenager or “of a certain age.” He couldn’t be more than 50, tops. Of course, age isn’t an excuse anyway. My father wouldn’t do that to a strange girl, and he’s – sorry, Dad – close to being “of a certain age.” He’d to it to me, because he’s my dad, but that’s fine. Because he’s my dad. Not some random guy in a store.
He popped me on the head like I was a child. But I’m a 39-year-old woman. Unfortunately, the key there is “woman” which I believe he subconsciously saw as lesser. I’m not going to draw that out. I’m sure you can see where it’s going.
Unfortunately, I’m up at that post office several times a week, and I can’t be seething with rage every time I go in there, so I’m going to have to talk to him. I get that in his mind, we were joking around, and I was smiling at that point, so I’m not going to talk to his boss or be mean. But I do feel that I need to let him know that it’s not really appropriate to pop his customers on the head, and also point out that that kind of behavior in the workplace is a good way to have sexual harassment charges leveled at him. He won’t know if nobody tells him. Fortunately, I don’t mind being the one to say these things when they need to be said.
Still, not exactly big fun. Oh well.
ETA: I just stopped by, and the clerk wasn’t there. However, the new-guy clerk who helped me today gave me a lollipop. Ordinarily, that’d be no big deal, but on the heels of the other, it’s just becoming comedic. It’s me, isn’t it? It’s something about me that says, “I’m eight years old.”