Let the Games Begin!

As we are just days away from the Olympics in Beijing, I realize I have begun running my own marathon of sorts. Honk* just left this morning for a ten-day business trip (Gasp! Gulp! whimper...). But we're okay here. Go home, now. Nothing to see, nothing to see... I might be ALL ALONE to singlehandedly feed, change, bathe, clothe, read to, sing for, pray with, tuck in, give milk to, tuck back in, sing AGAIN, retuck, threaten to torch every last princess dress if she gets out of that bed ONE MORE TIME, and pray with again for "Patience, Lord. PATIENCE!" while waiting for our planet to casually stroll around its axis ten more times, but don't you go frettin' over little ol' Leilen. You just stay right where you are with your feet up on the couch sipping that pink lemonade through a straw so the temperature of the clanking ice isn't too cold for your mouth. We'll be just fine. As my Bubby used to say, "Don't worry about me. I'll get a stranger to help." (Hey, you don't survive a Jewish upbringing without mastering some of the fine art of passive-aggressive guilt.)

*Honk is husband's nickname. It was Honey which was shortened to Hon but then became Honk in an email because the "K" and Comma keys are close neighbors and I think Comma was out of town that day and "K" was over feeding her cats.