HOUSTON! WE HAVE A . . .

TOOTH!!!

My precious grumpy bug finally cut that stubborn thing. She's been so miserable. Thank God for the person who invested Orajel. Or is that Oragel?

Forgive if this post seems a bit muggy. (Now let's see. . .is that the right word?) My pain became so severe today I took a half a pain medication and my brain is running in slow motion.

No. Make that REVERSE.

In fact, that leads me to my next question.

BLUSH AND CRINGE
OK, not really a question but the other word that was meant to go there escaped the memory of my recess. Or is that recess of my memory?

I miss recess.

Any way. . .here is the blush and cringe. At least, well, it's funny to me....but then again, I'm sort of on drugs at the moment, so pretty much everything's funny at this point. Let's try this one more time:

BLUSH AND CRINGE. . . TAKE TWO, CLICK!

Tonight, as the half a Vicodin began to seep it's way into my "not at all used to narcotics bloodstream," I could NOT think of common words. So we get home from the grocery store, and I had one of the two baskets of strawberries we'd purchased on the counter by the sink. I'm trying to wash them, and bat away dd2's hand as she's swiping the ones I'd just pitted and washed.

Wait. Hold everything...do you pit strawberries? Well, you know, when you pull that green leafy part out and scoop that remnant of a stem thingy out of the middle. So I did whatever you call that, then went to finish putting groceries away. I *thought* I asked my older daughter to please dump the freshly cleaned and *de-leafed* strawberries into the food processor so I could blend them up with some Splenda and make some strawberry milkshakes. She looked at me with a doubtful expression and politely refused to do it. So with a firm, "mommy look" I said, "please do it." Daughter number two begins to cry as daughter number one gives me a strange look and procedes to dump the strawberries DOWN THE GARBAGE DISPOSAL. She turns the switch on before I could stop her. Now my kitchen is filled with one gurgling sink, one very confused mother, and two very unhappy campers grieving over lost strawberries that both girls claimed I said to put down the garbage disposal (instead of "food processor.")

Peacemaker, enter stage left: So my loving husband waltzes in, pushes me away from the blender thingy as I'm dumping the second basket of strawberries in and bans me from the kitchen, saying "you're not supposed to be operating dangerous machinery while medicated, it says so clearly on the bottle." (even though in my mind, "dangerous machinery" is a forklift or front end loader). So I whip my head around, sure they're all mistaken about my verbal blunder which apparently caused the violent demise of a perfectly innocent basket of strawberries, and say, "I'm perfectly capable of using this garbage disposal!!!" and flip the switch on the food processor.
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VERSE OF THE DAY
Let us have confidence, then, and approach God's throne, where there is grace. There we will receive mercy and find grace to help us just when we need it. Hebrews 4:16 TEV

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BORROWED PRAYERS
Father, this Mother's Day week, be with and comfort all those who've lost their mothers. Help those of us who still have ours, to be thankful and never take them for granted. Thanks for making such a thing as family. Help us be the mothers and fathers that our children need to be nurtured into the destinies you created for them. . .to love you with all their hearts, souls, minds, and strength. Help us model it, live it.
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Have a great day.

Blessings,

Squirrel