Where do I begin? Thursday started a whirlwind of events. Read “The Orange Jug and Unconditional Love” to get caught up on what happened Thursday and Friday of last week. This blog is broken into 3 parts, so just bare with me!
Part 1: Christmas Trees, Waffle House, and a sick Sanibel
Friday night, I returned my jug of “tinkle” as Brent chose to call it and we ate dinner at Moe’s. I’m not a fan of that place, but we are never on that side of town, and Brent loves it, so to Moe’s we went. I must have gone straight to bed when we got home, because I have no recollection of the rest of that night. Saturday morning, we set out to find a Christmas tree. We didn’t have a lot of time because our 11 hours of childbirth class started at noon. Normally, we go to a Christmas tree farm about 45 minutes away and cut down a tree the weekend after Thanksgiving. Because the childbirth class consumed most of our weekend, we decided to check out the Boy Scouts or Lowe’s for a tree this year. We went to 5 different places, and found plenty of beautiful trees, but no one had the means to drill the stump for us. We have a spike stand that we purchased after our first Christmas together, when our tree was lopsided all season and we were constantly nervous that it would fall over. The Christmas tree farm introduced us to a wonderful spike stand and I will never go back to the stand that screws into the tree. I also will never have an artificial tree…that was never an option on Saturday. We have no time to go across town to the farm, but we did find another small farm closer to our house that does drill the stumps, only we now have no time to go get the tree. So, after we wasted our entire morning merely looking at trees that would be beautiful with ornaments, we ate a quick lunch and headed for our classes.
After Saturday’s class, once again, it’s all a blur. I was obviously tired. We probably ate dinner and came home and I proceeded to go straight to bed. Sunday morning, we got up early to be at church to teach youth SS. Because of our 2nd childbirth class we didn’t have time to go to worship. Instead, we went to brunch with some friends of ours, Katie and Britt, who also teach youth SS. Britt had to be at work and they also didn’t have time to go to the worship service. We ate at…make a drum roll with your fingers on your desk…Waffle House. Oh if you only knew how much it took to get me in that place! We were first greeted in the parking lot with a very kind family. Waffle House was packed, so parking spots were few and far between. The closest spot was by a car that was parked crooked–actually, they were borderline perpendicular to the two yellow lines. The family was still in the car when we pulled up next to them. Our car was straight, very straight and definitely well within our yellow borders. The teenage boy got out first and looked me up and down in annoyed anger as he got out of the car. Then, the mom had barely enough room to squeeze herself out of the car. I watched her in the side mirror as she cursed and complained about how close we were. We were close, but only because of the poor parking job by dad, who also complained and compared the distance between bumpers as he stepped out of the car. Please…can you really look at the two parked cars and think that we, the ones who are parked straight within the yellow lines, are to blame? Black Friday Pregnant Brittany almost made an appearance, but Brent made her stay in the car until the family was inside.
Back to Waffle House…two places I refuse to eat are Waffle House and Lloyds (in Birmingham). I haven’t been to a Waffle house in 6 years and I haven’t eaten at one since 4th grade. I have a thing with germs, and I think I’ve mentioned this before. It’s because of that 2 week long unit on germs in Mrs. Stanley’s 2nd grade class. When I think of germs, Waffle House and Lloyd’s always come to mind and I immediately associate them with filth. It’s not so much the food I mind, but the atmosphere. It’s sticky, old, and greasy. And if the atmosphere is that way, then the food must be that way as well, right? Ugh. But, Brent likes Waffle House and I’ve been telling him since we got married that I would eventually go with him to Waffle House. So I did and I’ve got my Waffle House fix for about 5-10 years now.
In the midst of all this, Sanibel must have eaten something that didn’t sit well with her stomach. She was sick all weekend…on both ends, at the same time. We went through a lot of old towels, sheets, and even threw away an area rug because it was beyond repair.
The weekend ended with a freak out at 11pm on Sunday that almost sent me to the ER. See parts 2 and 3 for the rest of the story.
A Merry Heart 