"Yeah, I wouldn't mind," Clint answered.
"I'm leaving at 7:10," I warned him. "Are you sure you want to get up that early?"
"Uh huh."
Thank goodness he joined me. I could not have made it through the day without him.
The day before, on Thursday, he met me at the Hall and unloaded all the tables, signs, easels, and rubbermaid containers. He singlehandedly transported them up to the theatre for me, with nary a complaint.
On Friday morning, an hour before the seminar was scheduled to begin, he helped me set everything up.
And then he taped portions of the event, just because.
Just because.
When I didn't have him working like a horse, he sat through sessions and took notes. During the breaks he mingled with businessmen, pastors and my co-workers.
The only negative aspect to the day was my wardrobe.
As is typical for me, I went out to buy an outfit the night before. I had 20 minutes before the store closed. (I have not bought new work clothes since last year. Maybe I've mentioned that I hate shopping? And despise work clothes?) I wasn't sure if I've gained a size since the last time I shopped. So I took 2 of everything (size big and size friggin big) into the change room with me. I tried on 17 articles of clothing in 15 minutes and bought the pants and top that were the least ugly.
I wore that outfit, along with the high heeled shoes I hadn't worn in 2 years.
They were snug when I put them on in the morning.
My feet were bleeding by the time I took them off at the end of the day.
(Two days later and I'm still limping.
The feeling is just barely coming back in my little toes. Thought I was going to lose them.)
"Mom? Are your feet that sore?" Clint asked, concerned as I limped about, packing up the supplies.
(Concerned! Who is this child?)
"Uh, yeah. I don't think I shoulda worn these shoes...
"Here. Let me do that."
And he packed, loaded, and eventually unloaded a truck full of seminar crap.
My boy is growing up. And he's turning out OK.
And, I'm still wearing size big. Yay. Frigging big was monstrous.
Life's good.
1 comment:
You and I are both pathetic. we oghtta get psychiatric help for the clothes shopping heebeejeebees. I got about 2 outfits and one pair of dress shoes that I wear to the death.
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