7 Quick Takes about Doctor's Appointment Switcheroos, Muddy Cross-Country Races, and Appreciating Other Cultures at Target

It's 7 Quick Takes Friday! How was your week?

—1—

Not only is having a lot of kids hilarious, sometimes it's also highly convenient. 

The first cross-country meet was this week, and the school lovingly reminded me that I need to provide them with a doctor's summary from a physical within the last year in order for my 13- and 17-year-old to participate. 

I found my daughter's form, but my son had apparently missed his last physical and the meet was tomorrow right after school!

Not to worry, though, because as luck would have it, his brother was going in for his yearly check-up this afternoon. All I had to do was call to swap out the names on the appointment and we'd have that physical form, after all.

—2—

When I started watching Phillip's road races years ago, Spectatorland seemed like a bizarre place that I would never really get the hang of. Turns out it's an acquired taste, and this cross-country meet reminded me of how much I really like watching races.

As the first two runners came into view at the end, I couldn't help but notice that their legs were covered in mud. How unfortunate, I thought, They must have fallen down! But as the rest of the runners started showing up similarly splattered, I figured out there was a giant mud puddle on the course. 

Both of my kids' shoes were disgusting when they got home. When they signed up for cross-country, I wasn't aware of the weekly shoe cleanings that were going to be required. I want my money back.

—3—

We're almost through our first full week of school. The kids are doing well, although the younger ones are exhausted. 

I'm doing okay, but by Thursday I was getting tired of silence (something I never thought I'd say) and prefer it when Phillip works from home. Then I at least have the background noise of him walking around and business jargon like "must-win battles" on his Zoom meetings.

(Just to be clear, Phillip engineers building materials and not weaponry, so the "battles" are purely metaphorical.)

—4—

I've been keeping myself busy redoing our laundry closet and it looks ah-mazing. No pictures yet because I'm not completely done. But there will be some next week!

I knew I'd have a little more time when all the kids were in school, but even I'm shocked by how quickly I've been making progress. 

In this past week, I've gotten more done than I ordinarily would on a home improvement project in 6 months.

—5—

After painting the closet and putting up some new shelves in the laundry closet, the next step was buying some organization and decor. I headed for the pretty stuff aisle of the nearest Target, and since I never go there it was kind of like trying to appreciate another culture.

I meandered the rows looking at glass orbs and wicker baskets and wondering how I could ever select a few items that would be right for my laundry room shelves, when I got distracted and confused by this metallic pretzel:

What is it supposed to be for? A doorstop? An April Fool's joke? No one knows!

I checked the label for a clue, but I guess the manufacturers were just as baffled as I was because it just said "DECOR." 

"What do you mean, why? Because people love pretzels, that's why. Just make a bronze one and stop asking dumb questions." -The CEO, probably.

Then I turned the tag over and saw that the other side read "Not a toy." 

 

No kidding: it weighed at least 10 pounds. A toddler could kill someone with that thing.

—6—

After visiting a few other stores with varying degrees of success, I went online to order a woven basket to replace the ugly one we keep on top of the dryer to hold random socks and other clothing that got separated from its herd.

I was sifting through a list of Amazon product images when I was startled by this little girl. I couldn't figure out why they Photoshopped a kid into this basket until I finally realized the product description said "Nursery Storage Basket." 

THAT'S NOT WHAT NURSERY STORAGE MEANS.

Not for storing actual nursery-aged children.

—7—

My 9-year-old doesn't have a phone, but that didn't stop her from figuring out how to "text" her best friend.

They're writing a joint story on a Google doc, and discovered by accident that they can type to each other in real time if they're both logged in.

Being 9, they also discovered you can secretly hang around while the other is adding on to the story, stealthily adding a second 'T' every time they write a sentence containing the word 'but.'

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