Ah, the joys of having young children:
I completed this all in two hours, had my Chevy Equinox full of four lawn chairs, two tables, a dutch oven, 10-12 medium sized rocks that my dad had brought back from Arkansas, the mail, and groceries from WalMart. I unloaded my groceries and got them all put away, when my phone suddenly rang. I noticed it was a local number meaning either one of my new friends in Fort Calhoun, or school. It was school. The school nurse to be precise. She was calling me to tell me that my daughter had decided to put a bead up her nose, and was rather upset because it was now stuck. What happened to my perfectly functional day that was flowing so smoothly even with all the things I had to do? A seven year old is what happened. My very pretty, sweet, lovely second child who tries to defy the logic of mother on a regular basis.
I have, thankfully, no foreign-object-in-the-body stories to tell. I spent an hour looking for a toy jet today, a toy that had been stashed away in one of the many toy bins in our house. My 7 year old found it and played with it in the yard over the weekend. On Monday, I ran over it when mowing, but luckily it did not get swooped up into the blades. A toy, played with and quickly forgotten.
Today, however, it was the most cherished possession, and we couldn't find it. So I made good on my promise to my eldest that I'd look for the plane. No luck. Perhaps I should check the lawn again.