In a little more than 30 minutes, a plane will be touching down and Will Rogers International Airport. On board that plane is a group of young people who boarded in roughly 90 degree weather only to de-plane in the upper 30's.

In a little more than an hour I will be responsible for another living being. To feed him, to make sure he bathes, to ferry him.
( it doesn't matter what country you are from, mom's ferry the kids. I think it is truly wired into the female genome. Mary ferried Jesus- and lost him! Please Lord, don't let me lose this child. I don't think his mom would be very thrilled.)

In keeping with the female genome line of thinking, and all the side effects we suffer thus, I am of course getting rather anxious.
Oh, you know what I am talking about...
"Will he like us? Will he feel comfortable in the bed? Does the mattress still smell a little stale even though I emptied a bottle of febreeze onto it? Will he complain of a headache from the febreeze? Can you die from inhaling too much febreeze?" OY!

And then I proceed to, "Will Clara shut the bathroom door when she potties? Will she be quiet so as not to wake him up in the morning? Will he like the cereal we have? Will he like it better if I cook breakfast? Will he like the way I make eggs? Will he like our raw milk? Will he want more than milk or juice or water to drink? Will he like the water here? WIll he get diarrhea from the water here? Will he drink coffee, even though he is only 13? ( Oh, how I PRAY he does! I need an excuse to start drinking it again!)
And the insanity goes on. And on. And on.
Ad infinitum.
Ad nauseum.
But, I can't write anymore, because I still have to go put hangers in his closet and clean out a few of the dresser drawers for his clothes. Oh... Do you think he will want me to wash his clothes? Even his underwear???

AACK! at least I thought to buy the booklet entitled, " Daily Spanish for Dummies" in the dollar section at Target. At least now I should be able to understand him, right?

;) Carrie