I miss this one:
|I found this on my phone--I think he texted it to his grandma.|
It feels like did that really happen? Did he really come home? And also, I got used to talking to him and having him around and now I miss him.
Franxiety. That's what I'm calling it. I got an email from Emma's French teacher about the trip to France and I was hit with Franxiety. The best way to combat it is to think of really crazy and far fetched scenarios of doom and gloom related to the trip. Then I feel less anxious. And also I'm excited. And also I'm nervous. And excited....
I have figured out an excellent way to go incognito. When I pick up Mark from school, we occasionally give his friends, who are brothers, a ride home too. On Friday one of them climbed in the van and said, "Oh, I thought you were someone else. I thought you must be Mark's sister. You look so different."
I looked exactly the same as usual except I had my hair in a pony tail. Apparently this is how Superman can disguise himself with just glasses.
I made a congratulatory/conciliatory cherry chip cake. (We called it a Five C cake.)
I also invented a new kind of frosting because I didn't have all the ingredients I needed for my usual recipe. My improvisation turned out well. Tabor called right in my moment of triumph so he got to hear me wax enthusiastically about frosting.
How lucky is that brother of mine?
The cake was created for the big moment when we found out if Emma was admitted to BYU--hence the congratulatory/conciliatory nature of the thing.
I was pretty sure it was going to be congratulatory. I mean, why wouldn't BYU want my girl? But we were still all a nervous wreck. We stress ate our way through dinner and I forbade Emma from checking her phone. Occasionally I would nudge her and say, "Check your phone!"
Later we were on three different computers, refreshing the page over and over and reading Facebook posts from other kids around the country that were also not getting the news. Occasionally some kid would report that they'd heard. Emma was despairing. "I didn't get in. That's why they haven't told me. I'm denied!"
She said she was going to throw up.
She is nothing if not dramatic.
Finally Adam came down the stairs and showed us the screen on his phone:
Emma fell on the floor. (Nothing if not dramatic.)
I got on the floor too, to hug her. Mark piled on too because that's how he lives his life.
Adam took a picture.
It's the picture Emma wanted to put on Facebook and I wouldn't text it to her because all you can see is her foot and one arm and it's hardly the dignified image I want to portray on the internet.
Never mind. Here it is.
This is what joy late on a Friday night in the Davis household looks like.
Then we had cake.