I saddled up the black stallion and rode into town earlier this week. I worked at my volunteer job in the elementary school library all morning; the perfect job in every way. I spent two or three hours touching books, smiling at little children, congratulating them on their reading choices, helping them find that one book in the series of 50 that they hadn't yet read. (You know the series I'm referring to, mother's of school children. Hint: it involves time travel.)
I listened to the librarian try to explain the Dewey Decimal system to a bunch of squirmy third graders. The questions asked by the students were priceless:
1. Sounds to me like he was a little OCD. (The student then admitted he didn't know what that meant, but his mother said it about people who were so organized they drove everyone else crazy...like his dad.)
2. Is it time for free reading yet?
3. May I be excused to the restroom? and....
4. Soooo....where are the Harry Potter books?
After lunch with Ro and his mom, I had the honor of snuggling Ro before his nap time AND singing him several songs. He requested new songs but then decided he wanted the "Queen Song about Londontown", AKA Maggie's Lullaby. He made sure I was committed to resting on the couch while he napped. I hear he was disappointed in me when he awoke to find me up and gone. I received a tearful voicemail to that end. *sigh*
I trekked down Penn to Discount Tire and explained to the very nice young man there the issue with my tires, it seemed to be a slow leak but an inconsistent one. They checked everything out, reworked the sensor on one of the tires and said everything was fine. No charge. They always fix my tires for free and in return I always go back and buy my tires there, which I'm sure is their marketing plan. They are incredibly polite and nice to every person who comes up to the desk. If you need a good tire place, I highly recommend them.
Then I sprinted over to Michael's to see if the Holiday snow village buildings were out yet, because if you are not there on the first day they go on sale you aren't going to find the one that you really wanted, and they absolutely will not sell you the one on the display, even though they aren't ordering any more for a year. I found a cute little log cabin. Done. (The bait shop was already gone. )
I then headed to the spice shop to help Able for a couple of hours. I love working with him and there was a bit of a run not long after I arrived so it was serendipitous. We worked on finishing a gift set as well. I had to leave him there by himself because I had set up a "play-date" with Abbey's two youngest kids and Audra's kids during B's swim time. We tried to play kid games but quickly realized it was not that kind of day, and moved upstairs. M and Z wanted to play doctor and I was to be the patient. Okay, I was game, as always.
First I had a broken arm that was quickly looped into a sling, and then I needed stomach surgery of some sort. All of that was out-patient but then it was decided we would need to go into the surgery room because I suddenly had some sort of brain injury. They went in first and set everything up, and then yelled for me to come on in. The lights were low. I stretched out on the bed. They commenced taking my vitals, and some X-Rays of my legs. I was dusted with something that looked a lot like fairy dust, to make sure I wouldn't feel any pain. Both legs were discovered to be broken and were quickly mended, by magic. My head was definitely cracked and a sparkly green lizard was set across the cracked place to fix it. I may have jerked a little when someone tried to give me a shot in the arm with something much bigger than a needle. Z looked at me and said, "You are supposed to be asleep. Stop jerking around." Bedside manner needs a bit of a polish.
They then took the orange sling off my broken arm and wrapped it around my head, advising me to keep the lizard on my forehead until I wasn't dizzy anymore. Sounds about right. They then slowly moved the hand-held Leap Reader up and down the length of my body, about ten inches above me, and studied it silently, heads together, muttering. They agreed there wasn't anything else they could see that was wrong with me. I asked them if they wanted to listen to my heart and they both looked at me as if I had lost my mind. "We don't need to listen to your heart Grandma, it was your head and your legs that were broken." Perfectly logical. I felt embarrassingly sheepish.
Then it was my turn to be the doc. They both had to have immediate stomach surgery and stitches all over, until they were a puddle of giggles and it was time for the Korenaks to head home for the night. Here is the cache of medical instruments used in today's procedures. I love Improv. in all its forms. When people are improvising, the room buzzes and sparkles with imagination.