On Friday, Jack and I were faced with several days worth of dishes after several days running at full tilt. (And with Dad still running!) Knowing that we have company coming today, Jack pitched in. I washed, he dried and put away. Every. Single. Dish. Jack has helped with dishes before, but always before, he got bored and tired of it part way through and went off to find somrhing less boring to do. Not Friday -- he was very intent on getting it all done.
Once it was done, he asked to go upstairs to do some bed-schooling while we waited for Rod to get home. We did -- we read some Plutarch and some Pollan and then Dad appeared as we started to open Famous Stories Retold.
While I was still glowing from my big boy's very responsible evening, I heard that my granddaughter had baked her (adult) cousin's birthday cake! A delicious apple cake, I hear. Wow! I was baking at eight years old, too, but knowing that Bella is baking already makes me so aware of how much she's grown up since I saw her last!
I am grateful that her mother keeps me posted about these little things that mean so much to a grandma! She's been especially sweet about that while she's been between jobs and has a little more time to send a Facebook note from time to time about the very important "unimportant" things. (I also learned that my grandson has started playing soccer -- and Bella is learning karate! Hurray! And thank you so much, Wanja!)
Oh, and the recent post about my thyroid treatment -- I wanted to update you. First know that I didn't bring enough food to work on Friday and wasn't able to find anything safe in any of the machines. When I was offered a slice of home baked red velvet cake toward the end of the day...well, I succumbed. And I am paying for it. Come to find out, wheat isn't as hard on me as corn is, but it does hurt.
So then, imagine a woman in her fifties, with her hair in a bun and wearing sensible shoes...imagine her pushing her good friend, John, in a wheel chair, down Grand River Avenue.
Now imagine her roaring suddenly at her seven year old (like a monster or a lion) and then chasing him at a dead run for half a block out of sheer exuberance.
Yep. Even in pain, I feel so much better without the stray T4 in my system that I was able, to run just for the fun of it. Twice! Jack and John both laughed so hard the first time, that I had to try it again a while later when the sidewalk cleared for a block again.
Fun! :D I like this feeling truly good again.