Missing

Well, as you may be able to tell from my pathetic lack of posts for the past couple of days, school has started back up for me after my fourth of July week break. Yuck. Actually after a week long break before that due to the flood in my house.


We had that nasty heat wave over the weekend but the last couple of days, it rained and cool everything off nicely.

Not that I've used the cooler weather to DO anything. I've been working on stuff for class most of the week. I can't wait until these stupid summer classes are over. I have three of the most boring classes on the planet. Two more weeks, though, and they'll be over.

The saddest part of this post? I have nothing to say. I'm literally sitting here thinking, "My life is so boring."

How about a story? When Caleb was little, he used to love water. To an obnoxious degree. The minute he got to your house he wanted to take a bath. He was even, on occasion, known to play in the toilet. Usually "playing" in the toilet meant putting his toys in the toilet and flushing them down. Once he got a little fisher price fishing pole for Christmas and continually flushed the plastic hook down the toilet under it finally got stuck once and my mom had to cut the string. My mother never condoned playing in the toilet but by the time he was six or so, she was getting really aggravated with him about it.

"He's too big to be playing in the toilet!" She'd say.

"And exactly when is it ok to play in the toilet?" I'd reply.

Then one visit when he was about six, he came over and we didn't see him for a short time. When Caleb was young (and probably now, too), this usually meant something was up. We went looking for him and found him and everything was fine. Until someone went into the bathroom after that. Something was up with the toilet - that much was clear. My dad worked on it for a bit and told my mom that he was going to have to go to the store and buy a whole new toilet and replace it. My mom called Caleb back to the bathroom and irritably asked Cal if he'd been playing in the toilet again. Caleb assured us both that he hadn't been anywhere near the toilet because she didn't like it when he did that. Now my mom had raised three kids before Cal came along and she was no dummy. She said, "Caleb Lynn...your grandfather is going to be tearing this toilet apart and putting in a new one. Are you sure that he's not going to find one of your toys?"

Caleb paused for a moment, apparently weighing his options before saying, "You know, Grandma. I might be missing one of my boats."