It’s Monday and I have a cold. Does life get any worse?
[tangent] (mrtl, I hope you don’t mind that I’m stealing your tangent format.)
Is it bad that after asking a question like that, I feel the need to then actually answer the question? And to point out that indeed, life does get worse? Because I typically feel a twinge of guilt when I exaggerate like that, or I feel the need to present the bright side—you know, keep things balanced.
J.P.’s birthday was last Thursday. Since I was out of town, we celebrated by going to dinner on Friday night. And Saturday night we spent roughly the same amount of money to see a movie. Can you believe how expensive movie tickets have gotten? Where’s Blingo with the free tickets when you need them?
The weather was gorgeous over the weekend, and we went geocaching on Saturday. One of the caches was hidden behind a stone in a retaining wall.
Then J.P. had to climb back up the wall. Good thing I didn’t follow him down there, because I don’t think I would’ve been able to get back up!
We made lasagne for dinner last night and invited the neighbors to help us eat it. (Isn’t that the definition of infinity—two people and a lasagne?) We ate on the deck. On October 2! If only the weather would stay like this.
All in all, a good weekend. And I can’t even complain too much about the cold, because I got it from tickling and hugging the 11-month-old son of our friends. Does life get any better?