When I was in elementary school, the class picture day was excitement. First, we were deviating from the normal schedule, which is always good. Black plastic combs were handed out, with the ridiculous assumption that kids would comb their own hair, rather than flick each other in the ear or use it as a rubber band launcher. Then you’d try to smile and seem natural while sitting in front of the blue-blob or brown-blob (fall version) backdrop while a line of a hundred kids watched you tilt your head an inch to the right, then place your hands one over the other like Lord Fauntleroy. It’s a wonder my parents ever got a normal picture.
Yesterday we got Baby Harbat’s school pictures. I don’t know how the photographer got her to sit still and pose so well—there were three different shots in there. We looked through the pictures with her last night, and came to a sheet that had all her teachers and the other kids in her class. One by one she pointed at each and said their name. I was blown away. Of course she already has a big vocabulary, which includes plenty I can’t understand, but this was truly amazing. It shouldn’t be surprising, since she sees these kids every day, but it was that I didn’t know who they all were. [wipes tear] They grow up so fast!
Now onto the most funnest super-fantabulous part of the day, dishwasher mayhem! We got two more quotes from plumbers after the first guy went AWOL. Each of those was several hundred dollars more. I had a third quote that was roughly the same price, so I had them go over today to do the work. Finally, finally we would have our dishwasher installed. I felt like Wile E. Coyote finally catching the Roadrunner. But no. The new plumber said that once he saw the work, it would be several hundred more than he thought, putting the quote at the highest amount yet. So he’s going home, now the fifth plumber to come to our house and leave without performing work. YAY! I’M SO HAPPY RIGHT NOW!
Writer, architect, father, husband.