Pocket Full of Crayons

Getting settled into my seat this morning at church, I see a....

Dad: Navy bow-tie, gingham collared shirt, gold wedding ring, multitasking

Little Sister: Brown hair pushed out of her face by her self made plastic ribbon headband, smocked dress

Little Brother: Completely in his own world, holding sisters hand

Big Brother: All of 7 years old, right foot in a mini red cast propped up in his kid sized wheelchair, being wheeled down the aisle by his dad

Dad gets them situated in the row ahead of me. 

He reaches in his pant pocket and pulls out at least 20 crayons. A variety of colors. No box. No plastic baggy. Just a pocket full of crayons. 

What conclusion did I draw from this family spilling into the row ahead?

Their mom must be a flight attendant. 

Palm Springs Baby!

This past weekend I met my parents and little brother out in California for a baseball tournament. My family has become that family. You know, the family that lives, breaths and talks baseball. On any given gameday we're always tuned  into College Radio stations or following a handful of baseball blogs or even updating our GameTracker. I may roll my eyes a lot of the time, but I have to be honest. I kind of love it. 

I am charmed by college baseball. Especially college baseball being played in Palm Springs. Snow topped mountains and massive palm trees seen through the same line of sight is quite different then the silhouette of skyscrapers I have become so accustomed to. 

I am charmed by college baseball because even in little brothers two pitch moment of glory, I can't help but think, "That kid on the mound was the same kid that used to be scared to sleep in his own bed, and would therefore, sleep in my room most nights when we were little?" I am charmed by this gaggle of boys that wear tall red baseball socks, blinged out Oakley's and red and black pinstripe uniforms. I am charmed by the small town feel baseball exudes and the sunflower seeds and Coke's that accompany it. 

Tis the season of college baseball. And I love it.

Joe: The Super

 I rode the elevator with our Yugoslavian super this morning. What a treat. Its amazing what you can talk about in the span of 9 floors. Jamie, one of the roommates, had a similar exchange with Joe the other day.

Joe: Good Morning Hannah .

Me: Hey Joe! How are you?

Joe: Hannah. When you get mavied?

Me: Do what?

Joe: When you get mavried?

Me: Oh, married!  I don't know Joe. We are working on it!

Joe: Well good. Don't get too late. (Translation: Don't get old.)

Me: Ha. Well, I will try to get on it. You know LindsayAnn has a boyfriend, don't you? 

Joe: Good! Don't get too jealous! Haa haaaa.

Why you not have boyfriend?

Me: I have no idea Joe. 

Joe: You all such beautiful girls. Why not?

Me: We aren't sure Joe. You know anyone we could date?

Joe: Oh hahaaa. No no... Have a good day!

Its endearing that Joe, our super, is so concerned over Apartment 9A's singleness.