The paper chain is so short now that it cannot drape over the bannister as it has for the past 93 days. Young Harold has torn off the past few links each night as he heads up to bed.
Horatio cannot wait to get on the plane that will take him one step closer to us. His journey home will take nearly 24 hours.
Meanwhile, back on the home front, Mrs. Murphy continues to wreak havoc.
I put a bottle of white wine in the freezer last night, for a quick chill, so that a friend and I could share it over dinner while our combined pack of seven boys ate pizza and wreaked their own variety of havoc.
We skipped the wine and sipped sparkling water instead and, even with a clear head, I forgot about the wine chilling in the freezer.
Fast forward to morning, when I opened the freezer to retrieve the ice pack I use in Harold’s camp lunch box, only to find a shattered bottle of wine in my ice maker. It wasn’t just a normal size bottle of wine, either, it was one of those $15 double size bottles.
I had glass and wine slushy mixed in with my ice cubes. A mixed blessing I suppose, since 90% of the mess was within the ice container. It could have been worse. Clean up was not as complicated as it might have been.
I might be most upset, not by the mess, but by the fact that I cannot enjoy that particular bottle of wine.
Oh well. 7 more days.