January 25 – “My new play space”

We took Mom for a visit with the oral surgeon the other day to see about pulling some of the teeth that are deteriorating.  It was just supposed to be for a look-see, but he was prepared to get after it right then.  Problem was, Mom has to have antibiotics an hour before any dental work because of her bionic knees.  My guess is that the knees lose oil pressure through the teeth and the antibiotics provide a temporary plug.  We had to reschedule for yesterday, but we couldn’t get her moving soon enough to make that appointment without a lot of confusion, so we’ll try again next week.  Cailyn was with us, and when we pulled into the driveway she saw – really saw without a giant excavator blocking the view – the vacant lot next door.  And was she ever excited.  The only words she could come up with were, “Nani, look.  My new play space.”  Of course, Cailyn.  We had that done just for you.  And off she went, running through the vast field of … dirt.  Occasionally she returned to our yard to empty out her shoes, but once that task was accomplished, back she went, running in circles and gathering more dirt.  She really wanted to take the shoes off, and it was certainly warm enough here in Galveston in January, but I had seen several glass shards among the wreckage, so we insisted on feet coverings. 

Cailyn was with us several days this week, and I’m not sure which day this next anecdote falls in, but I don’t suppose that matters anyway.  It was lunch time and I was the last one to the table.  As I found my seat I was informed that we had company eating with us.  They were seated just across from me.  I was happy to host, even happier to have the location information, since both guests were imaginary.  Now I have to insert here a brief word about something I had heard Cailyn say earlier as she played.  She was explaining something to Chris about the events of her day, and I thought sure this is what I heard: “See, Nani, I was going to go to the restaurant and meet Salana and have a margarita.”  OK.  Interesting choice of recreation for a four-year-old, but I trusted the restaurant would be trustworthy enough to check the ID of one so … short.  Well, apparently I misunderstood the comment, for when I was introduced to our lunch companions I discovered that their names were Salana and … yep … Margarita.  Ah, how could I have been so mistaken?  Cailyn and I got another plate and put some food in it for Salana, which Cailyn ended up eating.  She switched plates with her friend.  Margarita never did get served, though.  Part of Chris’ house policy, I guess.  We don’t serve Margaritas here.

Psalms 62:1 says, “My soul finds rest in God alone; my salvation comes from him.”

Father, thank you for the cleaner air that promises to follow the removal of that house next door.  And thanks for Cailyn’s great creative streak.  Amen.