My family was reduced by two this weekend and daughter No. 2 was never happier. Rebekah and Tavish disappeared to two different sleepover parties leaving Heather and me with Bronwyn. It felt like 1998 all over again when we had just one child to look after. I'd forgotten how much easier it was to entertain and feed a single child. Bronwyn loved the undivided attention. Far too often she has to battle with her older brother and sister to be heard. No yelling this weekend though.
If somebody carves the word 'asshole' into the side of your car while it's parked in the driveway that's what I would call a bad day.
If somebody returns and throws silver paint over the hood of your car that's still parked in your driveway that's what I would call another bad day.
If your birch tree gets blown over rendering your front yard a complete disaster I would call that a really awful day.
|Timber! This is what I would call a bad day.|
Last night the wind blew the birch over making a mess of the whole yard. Funny, when asked, not one neighbour could recall hearing the tree fall putting an end to an age old mystery!
The part of the birch over hanging the street has been removed but my neighbour, who shall remain nameless, had to cut that part with a handsaw. Nobody had a chainsaw for him to borrow. It will be interesting how long it takes to him to get this mess cleaned up.
So if you think you're having a bad month, think again. You could be my poor neighbour or worse yet, you could be his tree.