Two weeks ago my parents set off on a much needed vacation. I didn't mention it in real time because Emily was home alone, and I was in charge of homeland security (self-appointed) while they were away.
Unfortunately, they left the house and Murphy moved in because EVERYTHING THAT COULD GO WRONG, DID.
The afternoon they left Emily had an unfortunate, literal run-in with the corner of her bed. She initially thought she might have some broken bones. The injury was self-diagnosed of course, because she takes after me in that regard. Birds of a feather.
Luckily the injury improved and the first crisis was over. But speaking of birds, Emily called me at work on Monday and said, "Sky died."
Sky is (was) my mom's classroom parakeet, and he was spending the summer at my parents'.
"Umm...are you sure he's dead?" I asked.
I'm totally your girl in a crisis.
"Oh, he's dead," Em said. "He's laying on his side on the bottom of his cage with his eyes open. He's is definitely not alive."
She should switch her major to veterinary medicine.
"Well," I said, "You're going to have to get him out of there."
"I don't want to," she said.
Sky had been a little under the weather in the weeks leading up to my parents' vacation, so his untimely death wasn't a complete surprise, but I could tell Emily was less than thrilled that he waited until my parents were 600 miles away to fly to bluer skies.
On day three of my parents' vacation, the check engine light came on in my dad's car, which Emily was driving for the week. Emily dropped it off at the mechanic and I picked her up there and we went for a walk and talked about every single thing that could be wrong with the car, because give us a tough situation and access to google and suddenly we are professional auto mechanics.
Emily summed it up perfectly when she said, "It could be anything. The transmission might be shot, or the gas cap might not be on all the way."
The next morning, the diagnosis came.
The gas cap wasn't on all the way.
The rest of the week was fairly low key, but Emily slept over on Saturday night and we decided to celebrate Bakery Sunday, which is a tradition Matt has been unsuccessfully trying to get off the ground for two years now.
As we rounded up our shoes and keys Matt said, "I have a funny feeling we're only celebrating Bakery Sunday because Emily is here."
But sadly, we pulled up to the bakery and it was closed.
So we drove to another bakery and got twice as much as we should've but we felt it was well-deserved.
Speaking of baked goods, our garden is going gangbusters. In particular we have a surplus of eggplant and zucchini. I made zucchini bread last week and then used two zucchinis last night to make "ravioli."
We'd finished our zucchini bread and I decided I really enjoyed having that around, so tonight I made chocolate chip banana bread.
It's like Bakery Everyday around here.
Who needs vacation?!