If I seem distracted while I write this post it’s because I have something in my eye. And I’ve had something in my eye since around noon. But when I look in the mirror and roll my eye all around I can’t see anything.
Which makes me fear that maybe I’ve scratched my eye and I’ll have to go to the optometrist and maybe even have to wear a patch.
Before you laugh at that, you should know that this actually happened to me in ninth grade. I got a speck of paint in my eye and it had to be lasered out and I had to wear an eye patch for two weeks. If you can think of anything that is more damaging to a fourteen-year-old girl’s self-esteem than wearing an eye patch for two weeks in front of all her peers, I sure wish you’d share it with me.
Anyway, I just attempted to go rinse it out with saline solution because that was P’s suggestion. I think he suggested it because he was tired of hearing me talk about my eye. And it doesn’t seem to have helped but that could also be because I’m not good at putting anything in my eye and the majority of the saline solution ended up running down my cheeks and the front of my nightshirt. Which is really just a twenty-year-old UCLA baseball t-shirt and doesn’t really deserve to be called a nightshirt.
But you probably aren’t here because you were curious about the state of my eyes.
So now I’ll just tell you what we’ve been up to over the last several days.
I spent most of Friday at the Alamo with a bunch of fourth graders. It was every bit as soothing and peaceful as you might imagine. And while my child loved the IMAX movie beforehand about the Alamo, she wasn’t nearly as impressed with the actual structure. Which is understandable considering it’s right in between two hotels and across the street from Ripley’s Believe It or Not Wax Museum. It lacks a little of the raw frontier-ness she was looking for. In fact at one point we were walking across a grassy area behind the Alamo and there were all these holes in the ground and she asked, “MOM? Are these the BULLET HOLES?”
And I hated to tell her that it was just where they’d recently aerated the grass.
But she did get to buy a Dr. Pepper from a vending machine so it’s not like the whole day was a total loss. I also nearly passed out from the heat because summer officially showed up last Friday and apparently it’s very angry.
Then we spent Friday evening at home doing nothing but waiting for the results of Caroline’s soccer tryouts because P and I were both feeling sick. Not sick because of the tryouts. I think we both had a cold. But we did wait for the soccer results like it was the NFL draft. Which is funny because we knew she’d make one of the teams and it didn’t really matter to us which one.
And so we spent Saturday basically doing nothing but texting with other parents as we figured out who was on our team for next year. I remember when we used to have a life.
By Sunday I was still feeling kind of yuck and P and Caroline had a trip planned to go fishing. They left to fish and I caught up on four episodes of Call the Midwife, last week’s Nashville, and watched The Philadelphia Story for the 4,564th time. I also may have gotten caught up in a bit of a colored cut-off shorts frenzy. As in, I decided I might want a pair and spent a significant amount of time looking at various options on the internet.
Sadly I didn’t sleep well on Sunday night because I never sleep great when my people are out of town. But I think it was exacerbated by that night’s episode of Mad Men and the woman that broke into Don Draper’s apartment. If you watch the show then I’m curious if you agree it was one of the most bizarre episodes ever.
And so I spent most of Monday trying to be productive but failing miserably. Although I did drop some clothes off at Goodwill and ran by Target to buy dog food and a few other things we needed. Then when I came back home I walked up to the back door with my hands full of bags and the key in my hand.
That’s when I noticed there was a chameleon on the back door about six inches above the lock that I needed to unlock to get in my house. I’ve never missed Caroline more. She would have just picked him up and moved him. I guess I could have done that but it seemed easier to think about selling our house.
So I stared at him for six minutes trying to Jedi mind trick him into moving. But he just stared at me. I finally just decided to unlock the door quickly and that’s when he jumped. He jumped. HE JUMPED ON MY ARM. HE JUMPED ON MY ARM THAT WAS CARRYING ALL THE TARGET BAGS.
And then I died.
The end.
Not really. But it felt like it.
So that’s what we’ve been up to around here. Soccer, fishing, head colds, insomnia, T.V., and lizards.
And possibly a patch for my eye.