Between my daughter having spinal surgery for kyphosis, an out-of-town obligation and just a really busy schedule, I haven’t been able to blog for a few days.
But I’ve been thinking.
It’s always an interesting phenomenon when a big-name celebrity dies. The coverage of Michael Jackson’s death has been nothing short of absolutely ridiculous. As a friend of mine said the day after Jackson died, the person most happy about it is Mark Sanford. Yeah, remember that whole episode? Memories are short.
My wife has been a trooper, staying at the hospital the whole time with my daughter. With me out of town and juggling the watching of kids, I think her patience was thinning. I got home tonight and on my desk was a target (it was a NRA official 50-yard small bore rifle target) with every shot but one in at least the #8 ring (for those of you who don’t shoot, we call this “tight grouping” and it is impressive). It was from my wife’s recent shooting excursion with my son’s scout den. She helpfully wrote a note on it that read, “This is just a warning… DON’T MAKE ME MAD! Just sayin’…”
My wife is a celiac, which means she has to have a gluten-free diet. She related a little frustration from trying to find stuff from the hospital cafeteria that she could eat. On multiple occasions she asked the cafeteria worker if something was gluten free. “No, it’s $2.50…”
A walker (you know, the kind old people use? Or 15 yr-olds with spine surgery…) and a 2 yr-old boy are a disaster waiting to happen.
The immediate benefit of my daughter’s spinal surgery is that she is nearly three inches taller. The downside for me is that she is sleeping in my bed, and I’m not.
Glad our playhouse got done…