Tonight I called to check on Mama and Daddy. Daddy assured me that he is fit as a fiddle, and Mama gave me a run-down of all the latest family happenings.

Then she said, “So. What do you have going on this week?”

And while I actually have several things going on this week – things like helping with an event at church, working, ingesting some sort of live typhoid fever vaccine, participating in a conference call about the Uganda trip, shuttling the little man hither and yon, recording a podcast, screaming my head off during the State / Kentucky basketball game tomorrow night, continuing my diplomatic outreach efforts in China and parts of Russia by sending random citizens eight-piece Popeye’s fried chicken dinners (mild, hold the sides, extra biscuits) via FedEx because FRIED CHICKEN, IT BUILDS BRIDGES AND NOT WALLS – here are the first two things that popped in my mind when Mama asked about my plans:

1) Tomorrow after lunch I’m going to go somewhere ALL BY MYSELF and buy a gigantor cup of coffee and do nothing but catch up on email for two – lo, MAYBE EVEN THREE – hours and ohmysweetmercifulgoodness it’s going to be heaven.

and

2) Um, AMERICAN IDOL COMES ON THIS WEEK!

Y’all.

Email and TV.

That’s all I could think of.

Apparently I must have missed the memo informing me that I AM NO LONGER FOURTEEN.

I mean, how can you even bear to be in the bloggy presence of such dignified sophistication?

Stick around long enough, and I may even change into a t-shirt that matches my flannel pajama bottoms.

However, I cannot make any promises.

This afternoon I finished painting hubby’s old office that we’re now using as another guest room, and while I was painting I watched some movies.

I mean, what else am I supposed to do when I paint? Like, PAY ATTENTION or something?

Oh, p-shaw.

Anyway, I’ve watched THREE MOVIES in one day (In Her Shoes, The Constant Gardener, Inside Man), and if you combine those three movies with the one I saw at the the-AY-tur yesterday, then that means I’ve watched FOUR MOVIES in two days, and, hello, that hasn’t happened since 1992.

I am understandably proud.

Well, I have learned a valuable lesson in the last two days, and it is this: Never underestimate the power of a free Oreck vacuum.

Because SWEET FANCY MOSES, people. I just had no idea that a free vacuum giveaway would touch your hearts – yay, your very souls – so deeply.

And I have my fingers crossed for every single one of you.

Well, not really. Because I don’t really think the whole finger-crossing deal actually works.

But still. It was a lovely sentiment, now wasn’t it?

The little man and I are still at my parents’ house, and I am delighted to tell you that Daddy is home from the hospital now. It was the first illness-related hospital stay of his life (one time he fell off a ladder and had to have a pin put in his arm, but that was a hospital stay related to an ambitious home improvement activity, not some pesky sickness), and even now, as he sits in his chair in all manner of pain with three prescriptions by his side, he still contends that he could have just gone to the chiropractor, that there was no need for all that hospital foolishness.

I told him that I’m pretty sure that chiropractors aren’t really qualified to treat INFECTIONS GONE WILD.

And you don’t even want to get him started about the hospital food.

Anyway, A. and I are about to hit the road (AGAIN! WE LOVE THE ROAD!), but I did want to thank you for all your sweet emails and comments and prayers. At some point Daddy will read all of them, and he will smile. And then he will get on his soapbox about how there was absolutely nothing wrong with him that couldn’t have been cured by a couple of Aleve and a glass of red wine.

I don’t know where I get my stubborn streak. I can’t even imagine.

Sorry. I realize that title makes no sense at all.

But after a morning of listening to the little man scream that very phrase AT THE TOP OF HIS LUNGS, it’s the best I can do right now. I am embracing my limitations, if you will.

So.

How are you?

I have spent my morning on the telephone trying to get information about a yellow fever vaccination, and if that tidbit alone doesn’t tell you that my life has taken a bit of an unexpected turn over the last two or three months, then I don’t know what would. Because, oddly enough, yellow fever vaccinations are not really required when you spend the bulk your time happily ensconced in the suburbs of a large Southern city.

But as it turns out, I need me a yellow fever vaccination. Oh yes I do. And on Monday I’ll have more details than you ever wanted to know about why I need me a yellow fever vaccination.

I’m sure you’re trembling with anticipation.

Or, you know, ambivalence.

Whatever works.

And also.

I don’t know about y’all, but we were riveted by the Iowa caucus coverage last night. RIVETED. My husband is a bit of a political podcast junkie anyway, so he added some mighty fine color commentary as we watched.

And while I will probably never discuss my personal political views on this blog because WHY WOULD I DO THAT, WHY, THAT WOULD BE SO STUPID, I can tell you without hesitation that the English major in me absolutely loved listening to Mike Huckabee’s and Barack Obama’s beautifully crafted speeches.

Oh, the abundance of parallel structure and repetition made my little geeky grammarian heart sing.

(sidenote: There was a point in my life – probably after I watched The American President for the sixty-third time – when I dreamed of being a speechwriter.)

(But then I realized that I have absolutely no grasp of foreign policy, and besides that, I really doubt that any serious political contender would benefit from a speech that recounts Martha’s most recent Steinmart(s) excursion.)

(Because, say, a “Points of Light” metaphor isn’t quite as effective when the beacons are clearance racks.)

(And alas, my dream did die.)

Have a great weekend, everybody.

p.s. TRANS-FORRRRRRRRRRRRRRM!

p.p.s. I’m so sorry. It’s playing on a loop in my head.

p.p.p.s. The joys of motherhood, they know no bounds.