I came across this on Instagram tonight. That’s p.j. in the middle, her dad on the right, his little brother–her uncle on the left.
(The uncle has been Jay’s trusty plumbing side-kick the last few weeks. Jay wishes he had enough work to keep him helping every day. He’s wiry and capable, has a good sense of humor.)
Oh, I laughed though. Hair brushes driving the roads?
Monday Alicia texted me early. b.g. had a stomachache and his little brother had a class and could I keep care of him for a couple hours?
Yes.
Apparently he gobbled down his breakfast and then was complaining and holding his stomach and what do you do with a guy like that? Take him to preschool in that state?
No. Take him to Grandma’s.
He rolled around on the big, red couch for about fifteen minutes. I asked him if he thought a popsicle might help?
He thought it would, so I carried in the milkman food and found the popsicles, and he ate one and was well.
He woke up his aunt and uncle, and felt better.
Voila.
I love miracle cures.
Alicia and I had a fine lunch of tuna sandwiches, even though I ran out of mayonnaise and the Miracle Whip was expired.
We persevered and survived.
Tonight, late, I drove home after the snow, and the sky was that thing it does after a snowstorm, the huge pink dome of sky, bright as day. Over the pines, there was a little slice that was a perfect baby blue.
And I came in this house and found one sleeping man, and a couple sweet kids, and now it’s actually tomorrow.
Love you all so, Val