Do you ever wonder how you can win Denise over? Do you lie in bed at night and think, “Heaven only knows what fantastically amazing thing I could do to thank Denise for her all round awesomeness”?
Well, let me just tell you when making these plans what not to include, a pancake breakfast.
Years of me ranting have hopefully clued you all in that I am not a fan of the early morning or even late morning or really any part of the morning. But it might be news to you that I am not fond, at all, of pancakes.
This morning I was privileged enough to attend a rooftop breakfast at 7:30. Yes, complete with pancakes. It has been a long day already, and sadly we aren’t even half way through.
Jenny and I channelled our inner Michael Phelps and went swimming last night. Finding a way to relieve ourselves of our warmish house, we decided to take advantage of the fact that we live across the street from a swimming pool.
Thankfully Jenny is about as much of a real swimmer as I am, and we spent our time in the more shallow end watching the diving board antics. The swimming really did it’s job and we returned home happier and at least ten degrees cooler.
The news the other night commented on the increased swimming pool attendance due to the Olympics, kids and adults alike, all trying to recreate the events they had just watched on TV.
A long time ago, when I was either in Grade Five or Six, our town’s diving club came to our class trying to recruit new members. Definitely intrigued, I took the sign-up form home to ask my mom if I could become a diver.
My mom pointed out the fact that I was afraid of deep water, afraid of heights and didn’t like to put my head underwater as reason why I shouldn’t join the club. I told her that none of that mattered, and begged her to join. However, I never did join the team.
Now in my mom’s defence, it is really is true, all of the factors she mentioned would deter me from Olympic glory, but I am still sad every time diving is on TV, thinking about my missed medal.
Hoping for better tomorrow.
Grateful for all of the helping hands.
As Always,
2 comments:
I thought I hated pancakes too until I started making them from scratch. It turns out I just hate pancakes from a mix… perhaps your tastes are the same.
Oh, muffin.
My breakfast was at 7:00 am, I did not get to be on a roof, there were lots of homeless people eyeing me, and I was not allowed to eat, merely watch others enjoying their breakfasts.
Hmm.
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