Sometimes

Sometimes, when my pain is so bad that my pillow hurts my head, I imagine what it would be like to really sleep on a cloud, instead of a pillow advertised with "feels like sleeping on a cloud".  Because it doesn't--it feels like a rock, sometimes. 

Sometimes, when my girls are fighting, I pretend that it is 10 years from now and they are all best friends like my sisters and me, and ignore it.  Because someday they will realize all of the bickering is ridiculous.  Ridiculous, I say.

Sometimes, when you decide to take off all of the paneling in the garage, add insulation, re-apply paneling, paint it, and build shelves, you think you  might die of heat (or that your husband will).  Because sometimes you pick the most humid, rainiest days to do said activity.  Can't open the sweltering garage with a hurricane outside it.  Sheesh.

Sometimes, when you give your husband pajamas with a cheap no-name brand that has a big B and a big Y, he will think you did something really great, and bought him pajamas from his favorite BYU.  In time, he will be a little disappointed when he puts them on and can't find the BYU logo.  But you will laugh.  And so will he.  A lot. 

Sometimes, when I can't think of anything to blog about, I write down some random thoughts and call it good.  Well, not good, but done.  Sometimes it works.  And then I delete the (this) post in a week, sometimes.