In Like A Lion

I think they use that old adage, "in like a lion, out like a lamb," to describe March's climate, but our weather's been sublime. It's everything else that's been beastly.

Take, for example, our plumbing. Certain that a leaky pipe was responsible for the standing water in our front yard, Nate called a few plumbers to get bids on the repair. As soon as the words "Fi-Hunnert-Bucks" slipped out from behind his very conspicuous wad of chewing tobacco, Nate thanked the repair man for his time and sent him on his way. My elbow flew into Nate's ribs like a reflex. Our combined plumbing experience might have amounted to a small hill of shriveled beans. We do not own a shovel. And our household water-supply was on the line. But Nate proceeded, undaunted. Seven hours and several hundred shovelfuls of frontyard later, Nate floated into the house on a cloud of high-handy-man-spirits, with the triumphant announcement that the leak was fixed and the water was back on! I promptly declared that remainder of the evening "Prince Nate Day," and told him he could have anything he wanted. Needless to say, the evening was filled with some mommy-and-daddy-only indulgences. Like caffeinated soda pop. And touch-ups in the newly-painted office.

An opportune coincidence (in keeping with this post's theme,) is that the color we chose for the office was called, "Lion." I'm not sure what kind of substance the color-naming-team at Behr was under the influence of, but the shade in our office is in no way representative of a lion, unless there is a near-extinct specie of greenish lions roaming an obscure tract of the savanna. After the first coat, our room more nearly resembled a zebra than any other creature. (Apparently the paint was not sufficiently mixed, because we had noticeable splotches and stripes of grey and green on every wall.) After the second coat it was less Zebra, but still splotchy. After the third, the paint was gone, so we stopped and the outcome is mostly satisfactory.

After the painting, we decided to have a super-late night showing of Unbreakable, which I am sorry to report was one of the most disturbing movies I can remember watching. Some of you who've seen it might think I'm an ultra-sensitive wimp...and I am. But I already worry about enough things in my life--the integrity of my pipes, the even-ness of my paint, the bowel movements of my child. I do not need a film to remind me of the diabolical forces at work in the world, especially not at 1:00 am. Sensing my uneasiness after the movie, Nate suggested that we sing a few happy songs before bed; they helped ease my mind a bit, but I still slept with my bed-side lamp on and laid awake in chilling fear for what felt like half the night (and I am not exaggerating.) It affected me so horribly, in fact, that I had resolved to delete all of the pictures from this blog fearing the ill-intentioned scoundrel that might see them and stalk me out. (I'm still debating whether or not to actually go through with that.) This is precisely why I would be very happy to watch only romantic comedies and under-dog triumph tales like Rudy for the rest of my life.

Fortunately there is Henry. Although his well-being is the primary cause for most of my fear and worry, he continually reminds me that life is mostly good. Like last night when I picked a boogie out of his nose and he kept asking to "see it again, boogie! see it again, boogie!" His silly request made me laugh. And not wanting to be the only one not in on the joke, he laughed too. We both laughed. And laughed. And laughed, until I laid my head on his tummy for a rest, and he said "again, laugh mama." So we laughed some more. About nothing at all.

We laughed again at church today when Henry noticed that the man sitting behind us had nodded off to sleep and loudly declared, "He go nigh-night! He Seeping!" The quick-witted man startled out of his doze and shook his head in denial, "I wasn't sleeping," he whispered, "I was praying."

I think that was a whopper. I think he was snoozin'. But I hope he was praying. I think we should all be doing a lot more of that.

Here's our week in pictures:

I took this on Monday morning when I was pretty sure that I had been plucked out of my life and placed on the set of an Alfred Hitchcock film. (Those little specks in the tree are birds. A lot of birds.) Click here for picture.

"Prince Nate" and the mud bog formerly known as our front yard. Click Here.

Henry and Nate reading our favorite book. Click, please.

And here's the freshly "Lion-coated" office (sorry it's a bit dark.) Last click.

Mr. Handsome this morning before church. Last Click (really.)