I left the hill this afternoon to take my two preteen (or almost so) girls shopping at the mall. For what it is worth, they were thrilled to each be able to choose a new dress for the upcoming wedding. In the spirit of giving in completely to their desires, I even played multiple rounds of mad libs on the drive. Shopping usually leaves us  (ahem,  me) tense but I remembered to breathe and they came home treating each other sweetly. All was well, except I thought, “lo and behold, I don’t have a single interesting thought in my head.” To be fair, maybe it was the heat.

The girls headed outside almost as soon as we got home and played in the sprinkler. They are smarter than I am. I read the news in the kitchen. Soon they rescued me from myself. There was a bat in the yard,  nearly a victim of our cat.  Gilla was put under house arrest and the girls stood behind me nervously while I scooped “Olivia” up  from the ground and put her up on a tree branch above our heads. “What makes you think this is a girl bat?” I asked. They had the whole story. She was a mother bat trying to get back to her baby.

. . . .

A highlight of  the day:  When we pulled into a parking space near someone smoking, I heard Harriet tell Elisa to hold her breath when she got out of the car to avoid second hand smoke.