I fought for it this weekend. Oh. did. I. fight.
I want to be grateful. I want to be a person who sucks the marrow out of every minute of life.
But sometimes, life hands you a giant reptile.
And one day, you wake up and find yourself petting a Billy Goat.
Or you fall down the stairs by the sea lion exhibit, and you’re standing there with a scraped chin and a scraped forehead, and you have to decide whether you’ll cry all day or pull yourself together to focus on the pretty flowers.
There’s always flowers, and they seem to bloom no matter the tears, reptiles, or goats you face. They’re optimists.
And it’s all about perspective.
Of course, I’ll always contend that ice cream helps.
Counting gifts while facing lizards:
Spring and pig shaped watering cans. A match made in Heaven?
A couch buried in laundry: my cup overfloweth.
Little boys who wear capes.
Baby brothers who do everything that big brothers do. I need two of everything or the earth will shift on it’s axis a little bit. Global warming will ensue.
Chocolate cake from a friend
Q on his bicycle. With his spiderman helmet. And his intense hunched-over racing posture.
Ducks in the pool, the source of six a.m. dreams about pepper grinders. What? They sound the same when you’re sleeping!
Sheldon + the zoo = an excited 2 year old who will not stop running around and saying, “An-min-als!”
323-333 of my gratitude list, because even lizards are gifts