Mystery Liquid

The girls informed me the other day that they would like to go out to the garden and have themselves a little harvest.

“Mom! MOM!  MMMOOOOMMMM! Please can we go get some stuff from the garden?  Please?  PLEASE?  We have the perfect basket!”

And, so, I let them.  Because I am nice like that.  And I had not one clue that two girls could get that excited over a basket.  They went and put sundresses on and made a whole event out of it.

What’s that?  Oh!  You thought we just grew weeds in our garden?  No.  You have been misinformed.  We have some lettuce, raspberries, strawberries, cilantro, spinach, and sugar snap peas that are ready for the picking.

And weeds.

We have had an incredibly busy week.  Just ask my husband who was running around in his unmentionables looking for just one clean towel for to dry himself off after his shower yesterday morn.  Never in my life have I been so far behind on laundry.

No towels.  I am such a failure.

The weather has been nice and warm this week.  This kids discovered a fun way to cool off.

We met my friend, MindyLou, at the park and met her SUPER, CUTE, ADORABLE baby boy. (Holla, MindyLou!)  We went to Vacation Bible School all week and have been blowing through our gas budget like it ain’t no thang.

Yesterday, we met my sis in law, Lisa, and her two little girls at the beach.  My smart phone had alerted me earlier that very day that there would be severe thunderstorms and flash floods.  We were thinking my smart phone was not-so-smart when we arrived at the beach and saw blue skies and sunshine.

We were enjoying ourselves and having a pleasant day.

But, then:  disaster struck.

Daisy Mae was climbing up some big wooden post to get to the dock and jammed her finger.

So she came to me, wailing for all the injustice in the world, and told me she burned her finger.  This was a mite confusing, seeing as there was no fire source nearby.  I figured out that she jammed it and tried to calm her down.

But, then.  I had to take Little Dude to the bathroom.

Oh, joy of joys!  The beach bathroom with a curious, not-at-all-in-a-hurry, 4-year old boy!  Super clean and fun!

Little Dude:  (singing)  I am going poooooooooootty!

Me:  Shh!

Little Dude:  Oh!  Now I need to go poopy, Mom!  Yup, yup, yup!

Me:  Ok.

(tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock)

(That was my way of relaying to you that time was passing slowly.  Did you comprehend?)

Me:  Are you done?

(I asked him this because he is singing and touching things)

(Oh, the horror)

Little Dude:  Ummmmm . . . . nope!  There is still more.

Me:  Ok.  Can you try to finish up?

Little Dude:  IT’S SO WEE HARD!

Me:  Shh!

Little Dude:  Maybe it’s stuck!

Me:  Can we try later?

Little Dude:  No.

(tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock)

(See?  It worked so well the first time in relaying to you the passing of time, I decided to do it again!)

Little Dude:  All done!

But then, we have to put the swim shorts back on, because, alas, he had two legs stuck in the mesh netting that lines his awesome Cars swim trunks.  And of course, he is stepping in the fantastic, not-at-all-creepy, mystery liquid that is covering the bathroom floor.

Is it water?

Is it pee?

We may never know.

So, we are done with the bathroom (darn) and return to see that Daisy Mae has taken a turn for the worse.  Oh!  And fun fact:  my smart phone WAS smart after all because at the same, exact moment, a dark thundercloud covered the lands and, yes:

Flash flood.

Mysterious wet bathroom floor, injured and dramatic 8-year old, and lightning.

It was the perfect storm.  Literally.

We get in the car and Daisy Mae is handling things well.

“I can’t live like this!  I just can’t, Mom!  I can’t!  I am going to DIE!”

Boy.  She sure has a high tolerance for pain.

Lest any of you are worried sick over Daisy Mae’s condition, she was completely fine within 15 minutes of assuring me that death was upon her.

So, we got ourselves all gussied up, headed to church, and got home around 9:45 pm.  Only to discover we had no power.

Does anyone remember how my mother and I made our own Mason jar candles?

I don’t wanna brag, but they pretty much saved the day.

Little Dude was thinking life with candles and flashlights was pretty exciting and having a grand time.

But, then.  He tried to turn on a light.

LD (wailing):  ITS NOT WORKING!

Me:  What is wrong!?

LD:  I tried-I tried-I tried-I TRIED to turn on a light and nuffing happened!  NUFFING!  NUFFING!!!

It was fun.

Luckily, I am married to a hot, electrician, wanna-be lumberjack/farmer, who doesn’t scold me for not having a fresh towel for him in the morning.  Said husband somehow used our camp trailer’s generator to bring some power into the house, thus allowing Little Dude to peacefully go to sleep when we could turn the hallway light on.  You know.  So the monster could not get him.

I knew I married that David Maliblahblah for a reason!

Happy Weekend.