Just a Little Quickie…

A short update…

I went to get my stitches removed this morning by one of my fellow au pair’s host-mom who is a doctor. And I was so blessed and grateful to have her do that for me but the stitches did not close my wound! It’s closed within, so there is no blood and you can’t see my insides or anything… but the skin didn’t close up. And I’m not surprised because I have had to walk around everywhere I go. So I am going to her office tomorrow morning to get some Steri-Strips and hopefully the skin will graft. Sigh. ANNOYING. Never go run on broken glass, got it?!

Oh, and I just got home from the first performance of a local neighborhood cirucs, which the girls are in. They run around as sparkly butterflies. It’s a children’s circus with unicycles and acrobats and stuff, nothing too crazy. But it’s set up outside and the show is under this huge tent which is SUFFOCATINGLY hot. So we’re all sitting inside there DYING. Seriously, I almost died. I was sweating so much, I could smell the salt on my skin. I could feel the sweat drips rolling down my back, down the side of my face, pooling everywhere. GROSS. I know, sorry. Anyway… they were selling those little paper fans and so the Frau’s mom, the Oma, went to get some and came back with two so the Frau gave me one. Well, of course, Vee sees that we have them so she comes over and takes the Frau’s fan. Because five year olds that don’t sweat really need them. And then Eenie sees what’s going on and she runs over and walks up to me, “Hezzah, can I have that?” She pretty much just took it from me. And then the Frau made her give it back to me.

Oma leaves and then comes back about five minutes later.

“I couldn’t buy one for Eenie (even though she said her whole first name which is weird, no one does that). They’re sold out. Do you want to use my hat as a fan?”

“…. Okay.”

She proceeds to take the fan from me so that Eenie and Vee can have paper fans. Oh my God. REALLY? And guess what happens as soon as Eenie gets it? She breaks it. I’m not even kidding. Like thirty seconds in.

“Hezzah, can I have yours?” Eenie asks me.

“That was mine,” I say with a smile. “Sorry, sweetie.”

Twenty minutes later, Vee asks me the same question.

Oy vey.