This week, Matthew has re-attached himself to his garbage can. That miniature container has tagged along with us everywhere we have gone. I have found it in various places, also. Some of his favorite parking spots are on the shoe shelf, pantry, and right next to the momma garbage can. I thought it was so cute that he scoots it right up next to the big one for the night.
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In addition to all my meetings for YW girl's camp (I'm a Jr. Leader Supervisor), Ben and I were asked to be "Ma and Pa" to a group for eight teenagers for this year's Trek in Wyoming. At our first meeting, we found out who our family is, and what we will need to be preparing. It's a lot, but I'm glad I get to do this one with Ben.
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To fund the Trek, we held a fundraiser at the church. Ben had quite the atmosphere going. He made a faux campfire, had a handcart wheeled in (in pieces, then reassembled, then disassembled, and reassembled again -- a lot of work for a piece of artwork), one of my saddles, chopped wood, one of our guitars, and my Grandpa Kirschenmann's banjo. He also had The Lower Lights playing in the background.
It was quite the night, and ended with us rushing Joey home for some Benedryl and a few puffs of his inhaler. He had gone to the allergist earlier that afternoon and had been pricked with egg and a control histamine. Then he also accidentally ate a cookie with egg in it, then ran around endlessly to get it worked into his bloodstream really good. I put all that together when he came to me, red in the face, sweating, and wheezing. We made a b-line for the car, and got him all fixed up at home. So is the story of our lives.
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In other news, Matthew turns 3 YEARS OLD on Monday. It really is a miracle he's made it, considering his shenanigans. I'm hoping his birthday wish is to make it to his 4th birthday alive and well.
