we all wake up at a decent hour. asher doesn’t try any of his 4am business on us.
elisha cuddles with me and “helps” me crochet asher’s never-going-to-end-i’m-tired-of-it blanket while we watch america’s test kitchen.
something as seemingly simple as a haircut for elisha turns into a maddening experience for all of us that almost brings me to tears. it was one of those times where your own anger, frustration (let’s just call it what it is – sin) creeps up and smacks you in the face. it is during those mundane activities that i seem to let my guard down and not realize that yes, even while giving haircuts i need a savior.
omar quickly ushers me out the door to spend some time at borders.
i’m nearby when a worker directs a mom and pre-teen daughter to a section of teen girl fiction books and the worker says, “i would not recommend these – they are full of sex and are inappropriate and bad.” she then walks away and the mom and daughter shrug, pick up one of the books and proceed to checkout.
i relax as i walk the aisles of the grocery store without a baby in the sling or a kiddo asking for snacks. perhaps i even sang out loud to the music playing. the “bag man” wants a detailed account of how my rotisserie chicken spilled all over my bag the other day. like really detailed. the cashier even got in on it. i made it sound very dramatic.
too tired to make dinner we break out a baguette, goat cheese, olives, a pear, and nutella crepes.
and i notice elisha has a really cute haircut.