Since it was Monday, we heard from Braeden. He seems happy which makes me happy. He also sent this picture of him with his new companions. Apparently what's old is new again. It's like the old days when people didn't smile for pictures. The difference is, back then they didn't smile for pictures because they had bad teeth and we all spent a lot of money on braces for these kids who don't smile.
I want to curl that little swoop in the front of Braeden's hair around my fingers like I used to do when he was a toddler with blonde curls, sitting on my lap in church. Maybe I miss him? Maybe when he's at college I will use my trusty Find My Phone app (a.k.a. children stalking tool) and wait for him outside class. Just because I can.
(I probably won't be holding him on my lap again though.)
Emma started a new job at BYU. She works in the laundry and seems to like it. She now has two jobs. (Some people will go to great lengths to get out of weeding.) Also, she gets lost on BYU campus every time she goes because she has to find where to get a student ID or find the French Department to find out about placement. It would be possible to call me and ask for directions since I...you know...went there, but Emma is still working under the assumption that I know nothing.
So she wanders.
I'm ever proud of her independent streak. Like my mom said, "She's showing gumption."
And gumption is good.
Mark reminded me of my promise that we would go to a buffet when he could eat again. (Don't make promises when your children are drugged. You think they'll forget, because they're drugged, but they won't.)
So Golden Corral it was. It is kind of trashy there but they make up for it by being kind of expensive. Emma declined joining us which, I must say, was understandable.
Mark had been swimming all afternoon so that upped the already high threshold of his appetite.
I told him I was amazed, but not in a good way.
We also swung by BYU to drop off some stuff Clarissa had left at our house (she is working as an EFY counselor this summer and spent part of the weekend with us). We wended our way through the hordes of EFY people and I helpfully told Mark to look for someone in a blue shirt. Since every EFYzian (I made that word up but it might take off) was wearing a blue shirt, we didn't see her. We left the bag with a highly enthusiastic fellow EFY counselor who said "Perfect!" with a great deal of vigor and vim which seems to be the thing to say when you're young and enthusiastic.
It had been a hot day and we plugged in our new fan which was supposed to be "Ultra Quiet" because our bedroom is always hotter than the rest of the house in summer and we wanted to get some of the cooler hallway air inside. (Our bedroom is colder than the rest of the house in winter so it really is awesome.) The ultra quiet fan sounded like someone was flying a toy airplane and dive bombing us. I don't mind constant white noise but an airplane dive bombing you noise was a non starter for me.
The temperature hadn't cooled off enough to open the windows even by early morning so I decided to go down to the basement and sleep in Braeden's bed. The basement is a different USDA hardiness zone. As in, you couldn't grow corn and tomatoes in that climate because it's always so cool down there.
It was glorious.
I thought, why don't I do this every night? And the answer is because it's a long walk.
(And usually it's not so hot.)