All Hubs wanted for Father's Day was to buy a new bike for Daimean to replace the one that was stolen. So, after he did the price check thing online, off to Target we went. To buy a bike. A fully assembled bike.
Two *smart* people would have taken Big Bertha (the Jeep) for this. However, two *stupid* people take the VW Jetta and are actually surprised when confronted with a bike that won't fit in the car.
On the plus side, it was A FREAKIN' BIKE so Daimean and Hubs took turns driving one another on the way home.
Daimean met a girl this weekend, at the school's summer celebration. She likes him. He likes her. I heard through the grapevine (which consists of other kids and her mom) that she planned to kiss him on the cheek at the end of the night. He hasn't talked about it yet but I'm hoping he might. Besides Daimean's first hint of action, the party was great fun, and reminds me how thankful I am that we're a part of the extended family at SJB.
Mom is doing alright, but riding my nerves like a jockey. I thought maybe it was because we've been spending way too much time together and she knows how to push my buttons. Until I sat down last night and read my last pregnancy journal. Found it a few weeks ago, tucked in among a bunch of old picture books. It was from when I was pregnant with Isaiah in 2003, and it asks a lot of questions about your own parents, your upbringing and your current relationship with them. Apparently the urge to throttle her has always been just below the surface. I guess some things never change, huh?