Move over Monday, the weekend’s still with me
So it’s Monday.
And, of course, no one likes a Monday.
So I’m just gonna cruise on back through the weekend, because it provided a couple of such memorable moments, they’re still hanging on and making me smile, even well into a very busy Monday.
It’s beginning to look a lot like…
First of all, hubs had to work a little late Friday night, and BB went to spend the night with his grandmother. (He is a mama’s boy, but having been sick and home from school much of the week, just might have had just a little too much motherly TLC. Or hovering, whatever. To-may-to, to-mah-to.) This meant that Sissy and I got a little mother-daughter time. Ultimately, we hatched a plan over dinner, which we executed when we got home. So when my husband finally got home Friday night, he found…Christmas.
I had gotten an early start on the Christmas decorating, starting with putting up my Christmas tree in the family room. (I call it “my” tree because, well, it’s mine. I’ll tell you more about that later, but suffice it to say that we have, out of necessity, multiple Christmas trees in this family.)
Mind you, in his mind, this was not a particularly good surprise for him. He does not like any sign of Christmas before Thanksgiving is over. I don’t usually get in the mood to decorate for Christmas until about Thanksgiving anyway, but this year presents a challenge. I will be having my gallbladder removed two days before Thanksgiving this year, so I am anticipating not quite being up to stringing lights and such, given that I will likely not yet be taking solid food at that point. (By the way, DO NOT feel sorry for me. One, because I’m about ready to rip this farce of an organ out myself, and two, because it’s doubtful I’ll be packing on any extra Thanksgiving pounds this year. Don’t hate.)
So anyway, my Christmas tree is up. I made this star (inspired by this pin) out of cardboard and pieces of newspaper rolled around a pencil. And glue. Lots of it. I was out of craft glue, and all I could find was super glue, so I used that. (Note: super glue mixed with newspaper ink is incredibly difficult to remove from one’s fingers.)
…and did you see that pass?….
I have to confess, I have watched this a few times since Saturday:
But I have listened to this a few more:
And I couldn’t resist hearing from Ricardo Louis himself:
“I said, ‘Nick, throw me the ball.'” Yeah, he’s a little smug. If it had been me, I’d have been more than a little smug. It’s all good. War Eagle!
…and then there was this…
At some point that evening, during Alabama vs. MSU game, my husband’s phone started buzzing every few seconds. He would pick it up, look at it, obviously perturbed, put it down, hear it buzz, pick it up, perturbed again, etc. I wondered what was going on.
You have to understand, he DOES NOT do social media. Of any kind, really. He’s got a profile on LinkedIn, but I’m pretty sure he was forced into that by someone at his office. I don’t think it’s been updated since it was first posted a few years ago. He does sometimes like to live vicariously through me on Facebook, and he does appreciate it when I make him aware of certain info from Twitter, like when the newest episode of “The Season: Ole Miss Football” has been posted. Otherwise, though, I promise you, he has no idea what all those little black circles over there to the right are (if you are reading the web version of this).
So when the person in charge of keeping everyone in our Sunday school class connected and informed added him to a group text chat, which was a great idea in and of itself, he did not know how to handle all of the “communication” that ensued.
After the initial, “you’ve been added to ‘Sunday School’…” and then all the replies of “Got it!” and “Thanks!” he couldn’t keep up. (I should also tell you, and just learned this myself, that one of his biggest pet peeves is when people respond to an email just to say “Thanks.” I’m now trying to calculate how many times I’ve committed that transgression. Oops.) “I mean, I can’t even respond! It won’t stop!” he stammered. Adding to the frequency of the buzzing, it would also message everyone when someone “left” or “rejoined” the group.
At some point he texted, “Lord…please make my phone stop buzzing.” That was his entire contribution to the conversation.
To be fair, one of our friends texted, “Pray for my phone. It just exploded.” Another messaged, “Go Dawgs. Can’t watch the game. My phone exploded too.”
Lord help us all.
In all seriousness, this was set up with a particular family, one of our own, in mind while they face some trying times. You know who you are, we are praying for you, and we are all behind you.
So how was your weekend?