So are yall having a fun, relaxing holiday weekend? If not, well why not? Go on. Turn off the computer and go enjoy the last official weekend of summer! That’s what we’ve been doing.
Yesterday we decided at the last minute to join some friends at their campground. The kids were in heaven splashing in the creek, romping in the woods, playing on the jungle gym, and basically having free reign of the place.
It wasn’t all fun and games, though. Rebecca took a couple of tumbles, but she’s no worse for the wear. The biggest casualty of the day was my foot. We were traipsing through the woods, and I was wearing the antithesis of sensible footwear — my white plastic flip flops. Hey, I never said I was Nature Girl. The concrete jungle is more my speed, but let it never be said that I’m not a good sport. When The Fam wants to go to the campground, I can grin and bear it.
So as we were tromping along, I stepped on a stray branch with a huge thorn. I’m serious, this was no little prickle. This thing was the size of a dart, and it was lodged in the ball of my foot.
In my typical melodramatic fashion, I yelped and then hollered, “OW! Thorn! In my foot! Thorn In My Foot! THORN! IN! MY! FOOT!” until Paul realized that I needed him to remove the thorn, as I was carrying Rebecca on my hip and couldn’t exactly maneuver myself into a squat position without losing my balance and risking pushing the thorn in further.
Paul popped the thorn out with a gush of blood, and I hobbled back to the cabin where I treated my gaping wound with Neosporin and a Band-Aid, and we all live happily ever after. Okay, so there might be some slight exaggeration in that last sentence. Hey, every family needs a drama queen, right? Well, I’m just the girl for the job.
So anyway. A couple of games of Clue and a pizza dinner rounded out the day. We brought the kids home thoroughly worn out and with six of the dirtiest feet I’ve ever seen in my life. (Note to self: Crocs do not keep out dirt.)
All three little cherubs fell asleep in the car, and when we arrived home, I carried a limp 4-year-old Caroline upstairs, staggering under her 35 pounds of dead weight (and that’s no exaggeration) and placed her in her bed. She opened her eyes long enough to say, “Mom can I listen to that message again?” and then fell promptly back to sleep.
Today promises to be a full day with Sunday morning worship, followed by a birthday party, followed by a laid-back dinner with the in-laws. Dinner that involves pizza. Yes, again. Fortunately my family has never met a pizza we don’t like, and we are perfectly happy to indulge two nights in a row. So much for optimum health this weekend.
This week has not been as productive as I’d hoped, but all is not lost. I never got around to scrapbooking. BUT. I did manage to stay away from the mall and can honestly say there was NO frivolous spending this week. YAY ME!
Alright, go on, now! Go enjoy what’s left of the weekend. Happy Labor Day!