Yesterday afternoon around 3 the phone rang. It wasn't WOTF; it was my sister. We had a nice chat about my dad's birthday and made some plans for president's day.
Last night around 7 the phone rang. It wasn't WOTF; it was some realator asking if we might be interested in selling our house in the next 18 months. I thought about all the painting we've done, the furniture rearanging, and the fact that we're still in recovery from moving and then I laughed, "I don't think so." When I told Mark, he asked, "How much were they offering? I'd sell this house if they offered us enough." I don't think Mark saw me cringe.
Arthur woke up this morning at 5:30. Luckily I went to be early-ish last night and Mark was already up so he fed Arthur French toast and a whole lot of other foods. I got up earlier than I normally do and took a shower so I could take over when Mark left for work.
As the sun rose, I read about five books to Arthur. We watched the red rectangle the sun painted on his bedroom wall and dancing rainbows from the leaded crystals. Around 9 the phone rang. It wasn't WOTF; it was the folks with our new sink and they wanted to deliver it. Arthur fell asleep a little later (he's about two hours ahead of his normal schedule), and I had time to clear some space in the garage for the new counters.
When the phone isn't ringing I try to remind myself that there are eight or so finalists and only one first place; so -- all things being equal -- I have about a 1 in 8 chance of placing first, and a 3 in 8 chance of placing, period. Then I distract myself by contemplating octahedrons. I'll have to dig out my old D&D dice.
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