Circus

We took the wee ones to the circus today. It was not the PETA-approved vegan cruelty-free circus, Alec Baldwin take mercy on our souls. But we didn't rob any banks or park in any handicapped spots en route, so? Does that make us carbon neutral? The circus is not what Loverpants or I remembered. And by that I mean we were not in peanut heaven straining our eyesight (over the whirring of those light sabers that all the spoiled brats lucky kids won't put down) so that we can sort of see maybe somewhere down on that expanse of a floor there is a microscopic clown with a molecule of pie and a trampoline doing something funny or cool.

It seems that live performances these days are righting the wrongs of all peanut heaven plebeians and reducing the audience size and embiggening the stage OR SOMETHING and going largely and in chargely with the intimate stage setting.

I am a very big fan of the acrobatics and trapeze and sequins and general clowning and now I know my Baby Girl is, too. They were also both oddly entranced with the motorcycle cage. It came at the way end of the P.T. Barnum show and you'd think my kids would have started getting all feral in the aisle and stealing some kids' light sabers after a couple hours of cotton candy-infused mania but they were cool customers.

Say what you will about Pixar and Steve Jobs and other modern wizards supplanting the wonderment of actual live performances for Kids These Days, but I spent the afternoon at UTC McKenzie Arena and I'm pretty sure the greatest show on earth is still ranking pretty high.

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I loved this lady and her costume. I like this photo of her waiting in the wings, even though it's all grainy. I love her stance. She reminds me of a character from that wonderful "Checkers" painting by Norman Rockwell.

I believe these snow cone novelty cups were $42.

Shelter

Today I'm thinking heavily about housing. I'm remembering last night when we four in the FamiLee were sitting on our front porch watching the storm roll in and then our landlord ran over and probably thought, Who are these idiot Yankees without cable that have no idea that a twister is less than 5 minutes away? He scuttled us into his basement where his wife and four daughters were huddled around the TV. We're watching the doppler and the eye of the storm is headed right for our street and I'm thinking how I left my cellphone back at our house and then I thought, oh wait, all of my important belongings are right here in this room. Then our landlord said, "We need a prayer!" And he prayed for safety for all. The storm passed. It touched down about a mile from our home. It took other homes. It ripped off roofs. It mangled huge trucks.

Little Man pooped.

While we were watching the Doppler, Little Man delivered a righteous surprise in his diaper.

Later, when we got to go back home, I gave thanks that we did, that we got to go back to the home that was still in tact and change a little boy on the changing pad where I always change him.

It was one of the singular moments in life that one thanks her kid for having an untimely poop so that she could be reminded of the important things in life.

I'm also thinking heavily upon our housing in Boston that will likely be listed for sale this weekend. We're trusting that God will work a miracle with that property, that it will sell somehow even though mortgage lenders aren't dolling out the big dollars. We have faith because the Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away and sometimes that means taking away our burdens.

Thanks be to our Shelter in this Storm, ever more real, ever more caring in our lives. God be with those who are starting the long road to repairing home and heart right now. God is still bigger than the biggest storm. Take heart.

Buy Low

I was in a tizzy when we got to the cash register. "Bi-Lo card, ma'am?"

"Oh yeah, it's right here..." Pwahhh! The flip are my keys?

I'm getting all flumoxed, fumble with my wallet, don't know how to sign my own name. I'm really starting to sweat as we head to customer service where I am hoping against hope that the woman who was chatting me up in the produce aisle about how do I cook with minced garlic since her husband who just got diagnosed with diabetes needs a whole new diet plan WHO DOESN'T KNOW HOW TO USE MINCED GARLIC?!? was not actually creating a diversion while someone in cahoots with her was pickpocketing my keys right there next to the organic bell peppers!

Baby Girl can sense I am distressed and because she is Antoine de Saint-Exupery, she says, "Mama? Just pray about it."

So we stopped there in Bi-Lo in front of the customer service desk and said ourselves a prayer.

"Kendra?" smiled the customer service representation as she dangled my car keys in front of her.

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Bi-Lo, you might be surprised to learn, does not sell pizza dough, Boboli ready-made crust, nor bean sprouts. They do, however, sell Kim-Chee.

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The pharmacy at Bi-Lo, for your information, does not open until 1 p.m. on Sunday. Everyone and their pharmacists are praying for the souls of us who are pacing in a giant rageball around the pharma counter by noon on a Sunday because we ran out of meds yesterday.

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I am adjusting to grocery shopping at Bi-Lo in the South.

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I don't really like Bi-Lo.

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I am sure the feeling is mutual.

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I love this guy, though. See that big brain? It's going to MIT someday.

My cross-dressing chippendale.