Finish Line

So I am lying facedown across this finish line called Friday, pounding my bony little fist in triumph. The fist pounding comes from the fact that I still have strength to pound my fist after this past week.

Let's see: my elder son nearly gets tossed out of camp and only through my promises of vengeance on one side and sheer diplomatic chutzpah on the other manage to keep him installed; the resulting cooperative kid leaves the camp director scratching her head.

Opportunities present themselves from all sides; I am still sorting through my invitations.

We commit to vacation; you only live once and it's been a long time.

A get-together with another family results in near-disaster, saved only by a convenient coffee house with an indoor play area.

I don't want to talk about my tooth. That it still hurts says much.

And I missed an eye appointment I didn't even know about.

Oh, and I walked into a closed-door meeting that looked like I should have been included--but wasn't.

I've had more ups and downs than a horse on a carousel this week. TGIF, indeed.