It spilled and it spilled and it spilled.
And I didn't even cry--probably because I knew the old adage like the back of my hand. He didn't even cry either. He just stood there and watched that milk spilling and spilling and spilling. Finally I jumped in and yanked that milk up off the floor so it would stop making such a mess. I felt like a regular hero, but he said nothing. He just stood there as if he'd never seen that milk before in his life.
I've seen that look before, about a month ago, when I watched a guy on a bicycle do a crash test dummy into the hood of an oncoming car. I was at a stop sign at the time. (Really I should write a book about all the things I see at stop signs.) The crasher got out of the car, wearing purple scrubs and a ho hum look, as if she hit boys on bicycles everyday and was bored to death of it.
The crashee popped up, brushed himself off and rode away. The crasher then shrugged, returned to her car and drove off into the sunset, whilst me and all the other witnesses with quarter sized eyeballs were scraping our jaws off the pavement.
Well that's the kind of moment I was having with the milkman. I spotted some industrial sized paper towels at the check stand next to us so I jumped into the nearest phone, threw on my red cape and began mopping up the mess.
You'd think that man would have tried to kiss me upside down or something, but no, he just turned and strolled off with that same ho-hum look on his face. Only difference was he wasn't wearing purple scrubs.
So I was thinking, maybe they should change that old adage to something more specific and instructive, like: There's no use crying over spilled milk, but there is some use in cleaning up your spillage, or at least helping the lady in the red cape behind you clean up your spillage. An upside down thank you kiss would also be appropriate.
Okay, so the cutest thing EVER happened today. My boys came home from school and started campaigning for me to win this Good Mood Blogger gig. One of my twins, bless his heart, wanted to make fliers and take them around to all the ward members. hee hee hee Oh gosh, the embarrassment makes me blush.
My fourteen-year-old got on Facebook and spent at least two hours messaging all of his friends and posting stuff on his wall like, "HELP MY MOM WIN HER DREAM JOB!" I haven't seen him like this since he wanted to win History Day so darn bad. Do you guys remember that? The whole Jackie Robinson thing? Ironically, we went up to Snowbird tonight and on the way home I glanced up and there he was. Jackie Robinson. Hovering there on a billboard that read, "Here's to you Mr. Robinson." Exactly like this:
Look closely at this photo. Now move to the right. Further. Further. Further. Now move to the left. See how his eyes follow you? It's like one of them trick paintings at the temple. Well that's how it was on the freeway. He didn't take his eyes off of me for 30 seconds. And they were trying to tell me something. Something important.
If I can do it, YOU can do it?
It was like a sign or something.
Well, it was a sign. Literally. But it was like a figurative sign too.
Okay then, Mr. Robinson, here's to you! And here's to my boys!
Good Mood Gig from SAM-e
Please vote again today and tomorrow! (OMGOSH, I have the cutest story to tell you tomorrow, btw.) Today was an OUTRAGEOUS voting day. Almost 200 votes. If we can keep that momentum up, we just might be in this race.
And if you want one of these ginormous buttons for your own blog you can grab one at the voting booth. I'm pretty sure there might be a give-a-way involved eventually.