Yesterday was my birthday. The day started out auspiciously enough. Abby gave me a big beautiful handmade card and a pair of earrings, and Ian asked me what I wanted and suggested I take him out to get it (along with a side trip to GameStop so he could get a little something for himself). On top of that, I was touched to see all the birthday greetings on Facebook and my friend Emily called to make plans to take me to lunch. The day was set to end on a high note with tailgating and the Phillies game with my Freakin' Angels.
Somewhere around 10:00 a.m. it appeared things might take a bit of a turn. That's when the good mother in me (prompted by the good Jewish mother in Emily) called the pediatrician to see if Ian should visit the doctor for the bruising and swelling to his hand that I had
ignored assumed was nothing serious. [
On Sunday evening, after Delco Idol Jr., Ian decided to chat with his friends on the stage in the Media Theatre. On the stage was fine. It was falling off the stage that didn't work out so well.] We made an appointment for 11:15 a.m. Of course the doctor took one look at him and told us x-rays were required. My lunch date appeared to be in jeopardy.
Once again, however, the fates were smiling on me. The x-ray visit took less than 30 minutes and the orthopedic couldn't see him for his probable finger fracture until 3:30. Lunch with Emily was on and it was delightful, complete with conversation about our imaginary love affairs with Justin Timberlake and Matthew McConaughey.
After lunch I returned home to try to get some work done, but Abby had other plans. And not good plans. She was feeling lousy. As in sweatshirt-in-the-90-degree-heat lousy. She accompanied me to Ian's afternoon appointment and curled up in my lap. By the time we got home after 4:00 p.m., Abby was miserable and wanted me to stay with her. I knew it was bad if I was suddenly more desirable than our babysitter. I told myself she'd be fine with a little Tylenol and I was prepared to see my selfish plans through until she uttered those fateful words, "I think I'm going to throw up." And with that, my evening was shot to hell.
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The Freakin' Angels at Cathie's 40th b-day party.
A bit more successful than mine! |
I cancelled the babysitter, I called my friends, I shed a small tear, and I settled in at the computer to get some work done while my baby girl slept. And then the doorbell rang. And Freakin' Angel Karen stood there and informed me she wasn't going to the evening's festivities without me. Then the phone rang and the remaining angels said they weren't going either. A short while later I was surrounded by the earth's very best angels with tailgating hoagies, margaritas, chips and salsa in tow. We alternately celebrated my birthday, watched the Phillies game, and nursed Abby through her fever and belly ache.
Though my day didn't turn out exactly as planned, I ended up receiving the best gift ever, a powerful reminder that
Faithful friends are beyond price;
No amount can balance their worth. (Sirach 6:15)
My friends, I thank you.
2 comments:
awesome - so glad your friends stuck by you. You do know that if you were a guy your friends would have gone to the game and ate your hoagie and drank your drinks! PLUS you probably would have gone with them and left the sick children home with the wife!!! LOL :) Hope your son and daughter are on the mend!
You are a gift right back to us! Glad it turned out well. And we are on for next week's sessions! Will need to schedule a few nights.
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