The Vortex

We have this saying at our house when we can't find stuff (which is quite often) that "it's been sucked into the vortex". Anyone who has ever let a child spend the night or come over to play at our house has experienced this--they send a kid over with shoes on and when it's time to go home, the shoes/jacket/socks/hat are nowhere to be found. They have been 'sucked into the vortex'. Well, this little gem illustrates that principle in action...

After church last night (and it was a GREAT day in the house of God), we got home and I started about the process of getting dinner together. The girls started off for the bathtub, and Carter was throwing around a paper airplane. When he got tired of playing with it, naturally, he just left it the last place it fell and walked off without another thought. I picked it up off of the floor and went to throw it in the trash and I happened (thankfully) to notice some writing on it. I unfolded the paper and realized that I’m holding the sign up sheet for the Valentine Banquet off of the back table in the foyer at church.

That’s 20 people who would have missed having a steak at the dinner due to a paper-airplane-in-the-garbage snafu. Okay then.

When I called my son into the kitchen and asked what possessed him to use the sign-up sheet to make the airplane, knowing that it clearly had writing on it making it important, he said, “I didn’t make the airplane. I gave the paper to Mr. Adult Man at church and he made it.”

My five-year-old, who can’t read particularly well, making the paper airplane out of the sign-up sheet is one thing. Mr. Adult Man doing it is another. Of course, Mr. Adult Man can’t read the paper without his glasses on, so he’s got a pretty good excuse too. (and you know I’m laughing out loud at you right now Mr. C.) :-)

And yes, for those who are now stressing out about the list, I saved it from being sucked into the vortex, and I will return it to its rightful place in the foyer by Wednesday night, although it’s a little crinkly now and has a couple of strange tears in it (I think they were made to reduce wind resistance, which for a paper airplane—good, for a Valentine Banquet Sign-up Sheet—not so good).

And in other news…

My house has the flu-gooby (as we call any illness). We had this throwing up thing early in the week, then Carter came down with a fever, then the Husband came down with the fever, now Lily has the fever. Ugh. The Husband says he is dying of the flu. (As though his arm wasn’t enough to complain about.) (bad wife) Seriously, he’s sick. And he has surgery scheduled for February 4th on the arm, so I guess that’s really hurting too. This is really starting to interfere with my entire program. Sheesh.

(I’m such a lovely woman to be married to.)