Scott’s back is still in a bad way. Yes, Mom, he has seen a doctor…and a chiropractor…and has another doctor appointment tomorrow. He has been pretty much bedridden for the past three days. The doc prescribed prednisone, the wonderdrug (also the foulest-tasting pill on the planet), and Scott thinks he might detect a wee bit of improvement. The last time he tried to sit up, the pain was only excruciating, not mind-alteringly horrific. So, um, yay?

To add injury to injury, Scott’s mean old back robbed us of some precious and rare phone time with our world-traveling chum Keri, who called FROM THAILAND the night before last. I was nursing the baby to sleep and couldn’t get up, and of course Scott couldn’t get up, and I hollered to Jane to get the phone (brllliant strategy…what was that I said about nursing the baby to sleep?) but we were too late. I could only listen to Keri’s cheery message and gnash my teeth. Very sorry we missed you, friend. I hope Thailand is treating you well, and can’t wait to read more about it.

Made a Target run this morning, and somehow I managed to lose one of my bags between the checkout aisle and my house. It disappeared into thin air. I called the store, sure I must have left it at the register. The items are all there on my receipt, so I know they got rung up. A nice cashier searched high and low but nope, she couldn’t find it anywhere. It isn’t in my van, it isn’t in my house, and there isn’t anyplace else it could be. I remember returning the shopping cart to the front of the store, and surely I would have seen the bag if it were still in the cart. Curiouser and curiouser.

At least it wasn’t the bag with the painkillers in it.