Excuse me while I pass out on my guy (remembering the first day of school, 2011)

Today was a big day! Lily started first grade and rode a bus to school (with one of her friends) for the first time ever! She was in school all day and had lunch and a snack while she was there. She met lots of new friends and sat next to a boy at lunch. The boy had a Pack-it lunch box (which she also has) and this seemed to be the highlight of her day. Someone else with a Pack-it lunch box, not the boy.


After Lily got on the bus, I drove Ben to Lewes to have his ganglion cyst removed surgically. Everything went well but when it came time to get Ben ready to go, I decided I had had enough of letting everyone else in my family get the attention today and passed out after I put Ben’s shirt over his head. Ben was really drugged up from the surgery so he didn’t get too freaked out when I was heaved onto a gurney by another man. When I regained consciousness, I had Ben take a picture of me (this was a horrible picture, so I decided to use this one instead).

This was really a bad call on my part because I wasn’t allowed to drive him home and my parents had to come pick us up. Other families get to pick up their kids from jail for drunk and disorderly conduct but not this family! We are hard core. The other issue with this was that we were kind of supposed to leave by a certain time and since my parents almost drive up to the speed limit, we had to sit in recovery together longer than most other folks. It gets awkward after a while. People kept checking in on me (not Ben) and I was all, “I’m okay. Sorry,” for the next 20 minutes.


Because I’ve passed out twice in the last month, I was advised to go to my doctor NOW (even though I have an appointment in about three weeks, that is not soon enough). One of the nurses there was an ICU nurse and she said she did not like my color when I passed out. Grey is not a color that looks good on me, apparently. Ben was all, “I thought you were dead.” My Mom was all, "That's what we do!"

Duck, Duck, Oops!

I stopped by my co-worker’s office to talk to her about something work related. She mentioned that she was preparing for her class assignment (she teaches, too). This week, the lesson was about learning how to tell when people are lying. Students had to tell two truths and one lie about themselves and the other students in the class had to figure out which one was the lie. It sounded fun, so I threw my truths and a lie her way. My favorite color is blue. I have a tattoo. I ran over a duck once. It turns out, I really suck at this activity because I accidently told three truths. I am a horrible liar. Remember that. It’s important for the rest of this blog. When I told her this, she was confused and required an explanation of how one would accidently run over a duck.


I was driving (obviously) to my parent’s house to drop off my daughter before going to work. I was on a back road where random objects, such as tires, mattresses, refrigerators and the like, tend to be discarded. So it was a normal thought that there was a brown shoe in the middle of the road on that morning. As I maneuvered my car to go over the shoe (I didn’t want to run over it), I came upon the realization as the duck opened her eyes with a look of alarm, that I was about to hit a duck. It was too late to go around her and I ended up hitting that thing dead on. I looked in the rearview mirror and saw feathers all over the place. Then I looked at my daughter in the rear view mirror. She was content as ever, as though Mommy hitting a wild animal was a normal, everyday occurrence.



I felt really bad; I mean, I have issues with geese, not ducks, but then again, wasn’t the duck kind of kamikaze? It was sleeping in the middle of the road so it was either suicidal or stupid and either way, who wants that kind of duck to breed and make more ducks? Not me. You are welcome, America.