Saturday, February 18, 2006

Chippie Night at Youth

"Mom?" Clint was calling me on my cell phone at 10:00am this morning. "I just threw up again."
"At work?"
"Yeah. I going home. Is there a key somewhere so I can get in?"
Now was not the time, but, oh, I would've loved to have ranted again about the 17 lost front door keys.
"Max has a Pro D Day. He's home."
"K. Bye."

But what about tonight? I wanted to ask. What about Youth? You're in charge. It's Chippie Night.

When I called home a few hours later he had been sleeping in my bed. "I'm not going tonight. I'm sick. Carmen will look after stuff."

But how were the chippies going to get there? How were they going to get back home - NOT that I wanted them back...but they couldn't be left at the youth house, THAT would be asking for trouble. And ex-communication. Nobody wants those blasted chips floating 'round their living space. That much I know for sure. And most importantly, who was going to clean up the mess?

At 4:30 Max and I started taking loads over to the youth house.
1/2 hour round trip ...
A couple hours later, we reversed the procedure and brought them home.

But for two glorious hours, (for the first time in 18 months) my garage was chippy-free.
And for those two hours, they brought joy to our Jr. Youth:

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