I decided to tell him the Timothy story to maybe... dissuade him. The Timothy story goes like this:
I was maybe 6 or 7 and Timothy was 4 or 5. He used to chase me around simply because I'd squeal like a little girl - or because I was a little girl. Once after a few minutes of chasing, I got tired of it and laid down on a tire swing. Unbeknownst to me, Timothy was sneaking up on me. I sat up quickly while he was leaning over to scare me and smack my forehead connected with his mouth and the first tooth was lost.
A few weeks later, Timothy had not learned his lesson. He was chasing me. I stopped, stuck out my fist, locked my elbow and turned around. Smack my fist connected with his mouth and the second tooth was lost.
Or so I'm told. I don't remember either incident, but I do remember being terrified of his mother. Timothy is now a full-blown rock star. Wow, I wonder how other boys I've scorned will turn out.
In other news:
I'm thankful for:
finally finding a doctor (I'm pretty sure I have a sinus infection... hopefully tomorrow dr. E will give me some drugs and I'll be on my way)
finally finding a job (fingers crossed... i'm about to go see about it now)
friends commiserating with me ("Ahem. I don't like his tone. I think that was a lame-ass response.")
(creepy family photo anyone?)
redeemer (Week 2 meant I was well enough to go. Really though, the most shocking? Tim: Jesus' blood cries out from the ground for justice. it would be unjust for the Father to take two payments for our sin. justice demands the Father accept us. Wow.)
LO
VE
M.
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