The Brave, the Exciting and the Sad

back from my flu shot, it was eassssssy!

making a mess of the recycling pile

The Brave, the Exciting and the Sad; much like the Good, the Bad and the Ugly. And add in the adjective Funny. That about sums up our week.

Dressed in her overalls (hence the nurse calling her jool-ee-in; she must have missed the pink paint splashes), Jill impressed two older kids waiting in line for their flu shots. She didn’t cry. She barely made a noise. She just looked at the nurse like, “What the heck?!” and that was it. We were in and out with our Thomas the Train sticker (preferred over Tinkerbell) faster than the nurse could figure out that Jill was a girl. Sticker selection didn’t help.

The exciting news of the week is that Jess and Scott (my brother and sister-in-law) will hopefully know the sex of their baby on December 10. It’s right around the corner! Jess had originally wanted to keep it a surprise but my brother persuaded her with his “persistence.” I want to say they’re having a boy because it seems like everyone we know has had or is having girls. Either way, Jill will be happy to have a cousin! What’s your prediction?

And what week isn’t complete without a poop story. I mean, honestly. Our lives revolve around poop now. So I’m talking to Tony on the way home from day care last night and I’m telling him about an “incident” from that day. It wasn’t music class with Miss Dianna; it wasn’t Jill eating banana slices on her own (although that was exciting). Nope, one of the babies pooped in the play area and it somehow got everywhere. On the walls, on the carpet, on the some of the toys, including the oversized drum they all love. Babies were evacuated. Blocks and rattles were decontaminated. It sounded like a HazMat scene! So I ask Tony, “Which baby do you think pooped everywhere?” Was it Shannon, he asked (Jill’s partner-in-crime). No. Was it Richard? No. David? No.

“It was your daughter!”

“No way! Ahhhhh!”

Hahaha that was our source of laughter for the evening, at poor Jill’s expense.

Friday morning rolls around. Don’t worry; this doesn’t involve Jill’s bowels. I got out the door early to hit the gym. I’m sitting on the T across from a man in his early 50s wearing a State Police jacket and “Dad” jeans. You know the jeans I’m talking about. They’re too dark, too rigid, with no form to the bum Wranglers. My Dad used to wear them. (His shorts were always too short too, but that’s for another post.) So I thought about my Dad during the relatively quiet and still-dark-outside train ride. I thought about how he would act with Jill, and how he would take her ice fishing and how she would love feeling the worms. They would make quite the pair!  R.I.P. Dad. We miss you xxoo