One More Week

The cast comes off in one week. Tonight Quinn was complaining because his arm was itching. "Man! I wish I hadn't put all that extra cotton in there!"

"What extra cotton?" said I.

"You know all the cotton that used to be in my cast around my fingers?"

("Uh, the cotton in your cast that's there to keep your fingers from getting sores?" thought I.)

"Well, I picked it all out and shoved it into the top of my cast and now my arm is itching!"

COMMENTARY: Hmm. I wonder what else he's shoved into his cast. It will be like the Giraldo Rivera show when he opened the supposed Al Capone treasure vault. Could be gold or dirt.

(Short Break)

I just answered my cell phone. It was Quinn calling me from his bedroom on his new Bart Simpson telephone (thanks, Great-Grandma M.). He wanted to remind me that his arm still itches and that he's hungry - so hungry, in fact that he's planning a sleeping strike unless he is fed.

COMMENTARY: What messed-up family has a Bart Simpson telephone? And what kind of world are we living in when an eight year old chooses to contact his mother by cell phone instead of hollering down the hallway to her?

Must go feed the child. I'm thinking graham ers, but will monitor for possible crumb cast-shoving.