|Eli and Lawrence|
evens out. Like today, when the claims adjuster was here to check out the damage from the pipe, Caleb was sitting on the potty after completing his business and slaps his hand on the countertop and yells with giggles, “Service, service. Wipe my bottom. Where is the woman servant!” So, yes, I do enjoy aggravation any chance I get. Thankfully the claims adjuster, a big teddy bear guy of few words, just grinned and said “I’ve got five.” I said, “Great, the wipees are on the counter.” He didn’t have an appreciation for the opportunity, so, I yelled back, “Sorry, Lucy Jane, the wipees are on the counter.” The adjuster was friendly, but quiet as he surveyed and did his job. He sat down at the table across from me after he had prepared his report to show me the steps to completing the claim. While we tried to go over the packet, which he had obviously covered countless times, Caleb came and asked for me to tie something. Then Eli came to me asking that I separate two lego pieces that he didn’t mean to connect. Then here came Caleb again because he was too hot and wanted his shirt off. Then Eli again. I apologized for the interruptions, but he didn’t seem to care and we began to talk about the good, the bad and the ugly of a house full. I shared with him our extra challenge of Eli’s diagnosis and treatment. He said the usual at first, that he was sorry to hear it and he hoped that the treatment would help, but then he paused and kind of pushed his arms against the table
|Waiting on me at the gym.|
He will have his final infusion for this cycle today, so please pray that he have little side affects from it. We have a slow weekend planned, just laundry folding, so I hope he can rest and recover quickly.
|Watching the traffic from the clinic window.|
|He brought his Hot Wheels '79 Mustang for his pocket... always one in the pocket.|