It's Sunday. Again.
Somehow it's either always Sunday (I guess for you Americans that would be Monday) or Friday. Those days in the middle of the week just seem to flit away before they've even arrived.
Every Sunday before I even get out of bed, I think of this post that has to be one of the funniest blog posts I've ever seen. (Special thanks to DK for turning me onto this blog)
http://hyperboleandahalf.blogspot.com/2010/06/this-is-why-ill-never-be-adult.html
So my Sunday mantra has now become "Clean all the things? :(" I can still get a chuckle out of TPH if I tilt my head and wilt to the side just the right amount.
This morning was a bit easier though: Uncle S was here and took N to the park so that I could Clean All the Things. Then, I remembered it was Rosh Chodesh, and I just Cleaned Some of the Things.
This post was really supposed to be about BAW. When I got engaged to TPH, I promised myself that no matter how many long and wonderful years we were married, I would always appreciate him. I've been good so far, but wanted to share a story with you that shows how much of a better man he is than I.
First grader S came home from school on Thursday with a note that he needs to bring "Chips" to the class party on Sunday. I assumed (even though deep down I knew) that the teacher couldn't possibly mean "french fries", which is what the Israeli's call "Chips". After all, I'd already done all my shabbos shopping. How could they expect me to get to the store, fry up some french fries for 35 kids on Sunday morning, and then send them to school with a five year old who walks there?!
After we clarified that it was indeed french fries, my first reaction was, OK, forget it. The teacher said 4 other kids are supposed to bring FF also, so we'll just skip out on it. But BAW said, "No. We're team players, and we are going to get the FF." We were supposed to walk up to the store last night, but TPH wasn't feeling well so we ditched that idea too.
Cut to: the next morning at 6:30am. I groggily come downstairs and find TPH peeling, cutting and frying potatoes so that S will have some to bring.
Now sorry, but THAT is just awesome.
3 comments:
And that, K, is one of the many reasons why your heart bursts with love for the guy.
Seriously? Impressive. Almost to the point of being disturbing. (And I'm not even going to wonder about the first-graders sitting around eating cold french fries at their siyum. Not going there.)
That was the first thing S said when he got home: The FFs were COLD!!! well, duh.
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