Today ....

1) You should be glad that I'm your friend.

Especially if we ended up crashed in the boonies or something.

24%

You should be VERY glad. Like 76% glad. (And 24% VERY worried.)

2) Today I took the kiddos to their doctor appointment.

They've got the clean bills of health. Got all their shots (That makes it sound like I took them to the vet's office, huh ... I suppose I should say that they're now complete for the next few years with their immunizations.)

Bruise is JUST taller than his sister. Just heavier than her, too.
They're lean little things. You wouldn't think that when you compare them to their two cousins (who, as T1 puts it, "are made of styrofoam!"), but they are. Maybe I should feed them more.

Before the doctor's office, we went grocery shopping. It went pretty well. Bucket demanded that she walk and hold my hand for the first half. Then she wanted "up."
So I put her up.
Up ... in the cart with Bruise.

She didn't really like that. But she did a good job.

After the doctor's, we went to the library to turn in and check out some books.
I must say that I'm very impressed with my children. They were pretty much angel children the whole time we were in the library (there was a small fit before we got in ... but that's because Bucket was getting tired. --- Which half explains the SCREAMING and TEARS at the doctor's office).
They both REALLY enjoyed putting books into the little chutes that put them into the bins for the circulation people (BIG bins. On wheels. Good stuff). And they colored for a few minutes and then announced that they were done. So we went. They were pretty thrilled.

And Bucket REALLY likes stickers. She was offered one sticker or a small sheet of stickers at the doctor's. She got one sticker and TWO sheets of stickers AND a little temporary tattoo. (Bruce got one sticker and one sheet of stickers and a tattoo. And he was a bit less ... melodramatic. ... But he also has been at the doctor's less. He's not the one who dislocated his elbow three times in one year. He's not the reason that I now KNOW how to reset a nusemaid's elbow. ... But I do love my little girl. Even with her stranger-anxiety. ... She's getting better. T1 and T2 came by -- at different times-- yesterday. And Bucket was very nice. Instead of running and hiding behind my legs. She even gave some hugs and kisses. I was impressed.)

I've put the kids down for "quiet time." They don't HAVE to take a nap.
It's strongly encouraged, though.

I have a little cyst on a tendon in my left ring finger. I actually remembered to ask the doctor about it. I was wondering if it was a bone spur and if I'd have to have my hand filleted. Nah. It should go away on its own. I just have to be nicer to my hand so it can heal. ^_^ "It's not cancer," he said at one point.

"Oh, I wasn't worried about that. I was pretty sure it wasn't that. I also was pretty sure that it wasn't the bubonic plague or the avian bird flu."

... I don't think he was quite expecting those maladies to cross my mind. But he's got a sense of humor. ^_^

I also -- briefly -- saw the doctor who's treated Bucket's elbow twice (that third time? I was the one who treated it. Yup, Doctor Llanna, reporting for duty. Just please, no zombie skin ... I'll explain it later). He asked how we were doing. Over Bucket's crying, I said something like, "Pretty good, I think," as we ducked into the exam room.

OKAY, you want the zombie-skin story?? Here! Here ya go!

SO, I've mentioned that Bruise has a scrape-thing from the treadmill (Side note: Might leave a little scar. Shouldn't be noticeable in five years. That's what the doctor told me).
SO, a couple days after the wound was inflicted, the kiddos were having a bath. The scab got all wet and started to peel off ...
*starting to gag just THINKING about it. Yech!*
And, as I'm trying to dry off his arm, the scab start to ...
*convulsive swallow. Fans face*
rub off. And did I mention that the watter-logged (Ew.) scab is kinda green ...

IT'S DEAD SKIN, I KNOW! But it's gross and nasty.
It's ZOMBIE SKIN, OKAY??

LIKE UNDEAD AND GONNA-TRACK-ME-DOWN-AND-EAT-MY-BRAINS (or what's left of them. Hey, I'm just keepin' it real, dawgs.) -IN-THE-DARK-OF-THE-UNHOLIEST-OF-NIGHTS ZOMBIE SKIN.

Suffice it to say, it was really, really gross.
And did I mention that some was UNDER MY FINGERNAILS?!?!?!?!!!?

*Dry heaving*

But, yes, yes it was. And it was really, really gross.
NO, grosser than whatever it is that you're thinking.

(Kinda like the joke: What's grosser than a barrel full of dead monkeys? ...
ANSWER: One live monkey at the very bottom eating his way to the top.
*rinshot* Thanks, I'm here all week. Try the cannoli!)

Well, enough of that.

I'll leave you with THIS to ponder on.

17

I think it's a good idea to have less than 17 five-year-olds at one time. Just maybe.