“As my friend?”
“To hell with caution.”
-Prime Minister William Pitt to William Wilberforce from the movie “Amazing Grace”
This kind of describes the least few days. I fretted over not being able to go to the hospital to see my friend. Thankfully, Miss C, who is often times wiser than her mama, pointed out that a piano lesson is not nearly as important as ones friend. Thus, caution was thrown to the wind and I trekked to the hospital, a tall, double-shot, caramel macchiato, nifty purple flower and a big, obnoxious smiley balloon in tow.
Friend was well. Friend had nose tampon in place and a wee bit of a Frankenstein look about her…in other words, she was beautiful! My little heart rejoiced to see her with me own eyes. That and witnessing first hand her new tattoo gave me ideas for blog fodder for at least a week, maybe even a month!
I also had a nice little reality check in the form of a district attorney, a gang enforcement officer, three, maybe four police officers, and witnesses to the crime. How is it that I (we) can go so blithely about our business when danger, real danger, is mere feet away. Gulp. Idiot girl I may be, but I have no desire to mess with the gangsters. I think I’ll keep these bones close to the home hearth!
Then…I tackled my mother.
No, I didn’t really get physical with her, but I asked a pointed question. One thing led to another and now my parents are going to join my family at the Easter pot luck at our church.
My parents haven’t set foot inside a church since the day I got married. And that is a wee bit o’ twenty years ago. It has been made abundantly clear that they are not interested in myreligion, which is a boundary I have always respected. Other than my father randomly telling me something the Pope has said or done (in which case I remind him that I am not Catholic) we don’t discuss religion, politics or my views on child rearing. Hey, it works for us.
So, the thought of my very…um…colorful daddy, sitting in a church setting…kinda makes me nervous and giggly. I’m so happy they are coming and I’m hoping Pop will keeps his, um, more colorful tales to himself. Thanks to him, to this very day, I cannot sing, “We Three Kings”. It seems the only version I remember is the one he taught me when I was a child…and it’s not very…Biblical…LOL!!!
I also rectified the colored egg issue. I’ll post pictures later, but I’ll simply say that them eggies are bursting with glorious colors and there are little blue eyes dancing with glee.
Countdown: 12 days