So Saturday we completely overdid it: Truck Convoy (explanation and photos for another day), Eastown street fair and a birthday party for a 4 year old nephew.
At the birthday party nephew Matt handed me a teddy bear with the warning that "he might possibly be evil. He has red eyes," and then walked away. David, the birthday boy, was checking people into the house with "Hi! Did you bring me a present?!" I told him that we brought him a can of sticks, which Tinker Toys really are. John, the 8 year old nephew was caught between trying to impress his 16 year old step-cousin and doting on the little ones. Willa emptied the hosts garage of all balls, and pushed her self a la Flintstone on a tricycle. The other nephew and niece, who we don't see nearly enough hovered near their mom and dad.
On Sunday I woke up and knew it wasn't going to be a good day. I ended up horizontal for most of the day and watched the clock for the next dose of Tylenol. I'm hoping my next dose of D will bring progress in the leaky muscle world.
I felt irritated/frustrated/guilty as Jim cleaned the house, did laundry, made dinner, cared for Willa, and did yard work. Just before lights out I let him know how grateful I was (no perverts, not in that way):
"Thanks for taking care of me today."
"I'd make a good wife, wouldn't I?"
"You'd make a good Ann B. Davis as Alice. (hilarious laughter) I am very, very luck to have you as a partner."
"Keep that in mind the next time your frustrated with me, okay?"
"I know, all day I kept thinking, how can I get SO MAD at this wonderful man sometimes."
We laughed. No Twizzlers.
Today I'm feeling much better. Of course: at my desk I feel good. On a beautiful Sunday: not so much.