Hymns'll Kill You

From Little Lamb, who made thee?

I said that I would not cry.

But then the worst thing happened, and I lost it.

They sang a hymn.

Hymns'll kill you.

I have a new favorite book character. His name is Walter Martin, Jr. And this weekend, I get to meet the man little Walter Martin grew up to be. I am not almost, but most completely, beside myself with anticipation. One of my selves is constantly pinching the other self this week. And I sincerely hope that at least one of those selves will not run and hide at the last minute. I also hope my main self does not come down with some strange illness in the next few days.

In the meantime, I am getting all my ducks in a row. Accommodations for the kids, as well as for me and my husband, have all been arranged. Substitutes are in place to care for pets and keep order at church. Why must there still be three days on the calendar? Why did I think it was a good idea to sign up for a softball team which plays it's first game tonight? Why didn't I realize Waterdeep was also going to be there?

My, my, my. This will be a Weekend to Remember. Way better than the time we went on that marriage retreat entitled exactly that. Expect to hear some good stories here when I return. And if you think about it, say a little prayer for my sanity and sensitivity. Thanks bunches! See you soon.