There is absolutely nothing to do at 7:30 in the morning. This is after I've had breakfast, waved Michael off, read my Bible, and fed my baby. It's too soon to put Jane down for her morning nap; too early to go shopping; too chilly yet to do anything outside; too soon to sit down to a nice little second breakfast on the lawn; and far too early to call any of my friends to chat.
Recently Michael couldn't find his other pair of jeans, and asked me if they might be in the laundry. 'Maybe,' I told him. 'Just wait a few days, and it will all come out in the wash.' (Ha, ha!) But they didn't turn up, so yesterday I checked my closet and pulled out a pair of Wranglers with rolled-up cuffs that were definitely not mine. I remember now that a few weeks ago, when we were doing yard work together, I grabbed a pair of jeans that were so big I assumed they must be a spare pair of grubby jeans because I had to roll up the cuffs. Oops.
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