The sheep on the hill are still lying still...

Well, I'm back. The weekend was fun, despite the drama (did I mention I went to an all-girls school?). We ate, drank, danced, laughed, cried and took more than one a stroll down memory lane. I saw people I hadn't seen in more than a decade and a half, and have a healthy respect for the class of 1983. Those women know how to party.

Typical.

The tune for the weekend was set - literally - upon landing at BWI. I turned on my cell phone to text my friend (Hi, Lannin!) that I was on the ground, but was distracted by an incoming phone call. From day care. Banner had pink eye and needed to go home. 

OMG, really? 

(I'm not a catastrophist for nothing, you know. And I had just mentioned to Trevor the night before that I was POSITIVE something would happen the second I landed in Baltimore!)

So, I called Trevor and told him he needed to leave work immediately to pick up Banner. 

Me:  “Oh, and by the way, call the vet once you get in the car because his teachers are pretty sure he has conjunctivitis.  Which is highly contagious, so - FOR THE LOVE OF GOD AND ALL THINGS HOLY - WASH YOUR HANDS AND DON’T TOUCH YOUR EYES!”

Trevor:  “The vet?”

Me:  “Seriously?  That's all you got out of my last statement?  A LITTLE STRESSED HERE!"

This would also be the moment that I realized that my own eyes were itching and burning.  Because, obviously.  It's going on 4 PM on a Friday afternoon, I'm 1500 miles from home and I've just convinced myself that I have pink eye.

It’s akin to watching the video about lice and experiencing a sudden, intense scalp itch. Or at least it is was for me because Psychosomatic Disease is STRONG with this one (points at self).

Luckily, less than an hour later, Trevor called back with the FABULOUS news that Banner did not, in fact, have pink eye.  Just another human design flaw ear infection like THIS ONE back in January.

Awesome.

In other news, I had a giant zit on my chin the entire effing weekend. I was actually thinking about how good my skin has been since...well, I got pregnant two years ago. It isn't perfect, but I've definitely had fewer "disasters". And then *wham*: I wake up with something the size of a small volcano on my chin the very morning I'm preparing to fly cross country to see people I haven't seen in ages. I'm super lucky that way.

I'd also like to make a special shout out to Phil for being such a good sport. It was his tenth wedding anniversary, and I'm sure he had about 15,000 different ways he would have preferred to spend it than at his wife's high school reunion at an all girls school. Never mind forcing him to photo-document the reenactment of the infamous Broom Closet Fight of 1996 or helping to blow drying my bed after Hilary he spilled white wine everywhere.

Me:  "I'm blow drying my bed."
Anna:  "I miss you."
Me:  "Seriously.  I'm blow drying my bed."
Anna:  "Are you coming down?"
Me:  "WE ARE BLOW DRYING MY BED!"

And, because I have no idea how to end this post, here is a little bit of photo irony (even though it is less "irony" and more "OMG"):

First thing I saw when I picked up Banner
after landing at DFW on Monday afternoon.