The exercise: Write about: reconstruction. This afternoon Max helped me put his crib back together, as Miles has gotten big enough to need it. So we almost lasted nine months without it being setup. At least this time when it comes down it will be done for good.
Bakery wasn't quite as crazy as usual this morning, but we were still closed before I left at 12:30. Cinnamon buns and croissants both survived the initial rush, which is a rarity, and the lineup never got excessive. It was just steady, steady, steady... oh, everything's gone.
Hoping to get up early to start picking blackberries for the long weekend's farmers market, as it's going to be another hot one tomorrow.
Mine:
"Okay," I said after pausing to count to ten. "Then what happened?"
"Well, after the delivery truck started spilling them golf balls everywhere, that's when the penguins showed up."
"The penguins?" I reminded myself that these people had just been through a seriously traumatic experience. That they needed my patience and sympathy. "What penguins?"
"I guess they mighta escaped from the zoo?"
"Maybe they thought them golf balls were ice or snow or hail or something?"
"Yes," I said. "Or something."
"So them penguins were all over the place and I had to swerve pretty hard to avoid hitting them." "Yup, couldn't go hitting penguins in front of the kids. Not right after they'd been watching Happy Feet in the backseat, you know?" "That is indeed an excellent reason not to run over penguins." I could feel the headache coming back again. "And then...?" "Well, what with the car jerking around like that, I got car sick." "And then so did the kids." "And then so did I." There were just some days that I regretted the life choices that had resulted in my becoming a traffic collision reconstructionist.