House Turner

6:00AM: Wake up. If you know me well you know that's EARLY! 7:00AM: Have breakfast with Aaron, discuss a book we've been reading. 7:30AM: Aaron leaves. Spend 30 minutes reading the Henri Nouwen book I've had on my nightstand since 2017. Two years. For real. 8:00AM: Exercise. It was basic neck and shoulder yoga, but still WHO AM I TODAY?!?!? 8:30AM: Sam is still asleep. What is this sorcery? Put in a load of laundry. Answer emails. Fist bump the universe for being productive. 9:00AM: Take a shower. Do my hair and makeup for a lunch date later. I am a stranger to myself. 9:45AM: Sam is awake but mellow. Make a list of library books to get so later we're not standing in the middle of the library staring blankly. I am on FIRE! 10:00AM: Sam says "I don't feel very good." I check his temp. There's fever. Cancel lunch date and get Sam comfy on the couch. 10:10AM: Sam vomits all over me, himself, the floor, and the couch. Immediately the cat comes leaping through the room followed closely by the dog who runs through the vomit, slips, skids into the wall, and keeps running, tracking barf throughout the house. 10:11AM: Weep internally and congratulate yourself for not cussing in front of the sick eight year old. 10:30AM: Take another shower after cleaning up All The Vomit. Wash off makeup. Hair is a mess. Look in the mirror and greet the familiar disaster that is staring back at you with a friendly wave.

Me: “Okay. When we’re done with this bookcase can we PLEASE change the playlist?”

Him: “WHAT?! NO!! We’re only in 1985! We haven’t even heard This Means War!”

Me: “.............This is for all the times I subjected you to show tunes, isn’t it.”

Me: *trying to study*

These are the last pictures of this kid as a seven year old. Next time I see him he’ll officially be eight. (Not counting the 17 times he’s going to get out of bed to get a drink or pee or check the weather or ask a very important question about walruses).