The title will be lost to those of you who were not Lost In Space fans during the 60's. That alone makes me older than dirt, but wait until you hear the rest of the story.
Thursday night we had the privilege of three of the grandkids for overnight. Eldest Son and his wife took them out for pizza and games, and when they came home we did the whole bath thing and got them into bed.
About 2 a.m., the youngest woke up crying, and scared me out of three years growth. And while that's a good thing at my age, it didn't seem so at the time. You see, Nana isn't used to small beings in her bedroom at 2 a.m., especially those that scream at high volume. After getting her calmed down I went back to sleep.
But then, thirty minutes later, The Girl needed me. It seems as though she and the boyfriend have broken things off, and she was devastated. The tears shed that night and the following day could fill buckets. My heart is sore for her, but in the long run we know it's for the best.
Needless to say, there was no sleep in Mudville (or our bed, for that matter) for the remainder of the night.
The next morning I dragged my weary bones out of bed and made it to the phone to call in to work. I could barely see to get back to bed, much less to drive in to work for the day. Praise God for sick days!
The grands stayed with us all that day while we tried to explain why The Girl was so upset. We boiled it down to a tummy ache, which they understood. Even the youngest came over and patted her, saying "Wuv oo" to make her feel better. Friday evening Hubster suggested we go to the movies as a distraction. He stayed home with the grands to wait for their parents, while The Girl and I went to the flicks.
Little did I know what movie she wanted to see.
Let's just say it wasn't the kind of movie you take your mother to, if you catch my drift. But when all was said and done, she had a big grin on her face...the first I'd seen in days.
Yes, it was a "Magic" night. Ahem.
Saturday we traveled to her apartment to move her out and into a townhouse that she'll be sharing with two other people. I tried to get all the photos of her and the ex packed away before she saw them, but failed. Again, the waterworks started. However, they were short-lived this time, a sure sign she is moving on.
It took us until around 9 p.m. to get everything moved and cleaned. By that time we just decided I'd spend the night with her so we could finish it all. We both woke up late Sunday and got breakfast, then headed home to a pool party that BIL and SIL were throwing.
Yes, I got in the pool.
We were all playing a lively pool-volleyball game, tossing the ball back and forth with great abandon and absolutely no skill whatsoever. I decided to call one of the serves, and that's when it happened.
That would be my jammed ring finger. Fortunately, I was able to get my wedding rings off before it swelled too much. Unfortunately, it hurt like the dickens. This is what I get for trying to party like it's 1975.
Tonight will be another fun-filled and excitement-packed day. We're going grocery shopping this evening, and we're having chicken for dinner.
Never let it be said that you have to go to Route 66 to get your kicks. We got 'em in spades right here.