Some randomness and WAJ

Hubby took little man swimming this weekend, some daddy and son time away from Mom. I got caught up on work and they splished and splashed. As hubby finished shimmying little man's head through his shirt hole, little man looked up at him and stated, "Daddy, you're a nice boy." Then he gave him a big hug. Hubby welled up recounting this heartwarming exchange to me later that day.

Little man and I were in the park the other day making sand shapes in the box when a neighbour boy the same age arrived with his Farmor (Father's Mother, a.k.a Grandma) and little sister. While he went to shoot hoops (his Dad happens to be the coach for the men's bball team here in Uppsala), little man went about his business of stomping on my sand critters. After a few minutes, I asked him, "Why don't you go over and see if Pontus wants to hop on the trampoline?" He looked over at him, then at me and replied, "Mommy, he doesn't like to talk." Alrighty then.

Evidence that I rarely wear make-up: "Mommy, your eyes are black and pretty." Thanks.

"Mommy, what's an iganimation?"

Hubby took the train to Gothenburg (Göteborg) Tuesday night as he had meetings there on Wednesday. As he made his way down the aisle to his seat on the train home, he noticed a woman was having a terrible time with her seat. He stopped to help her fix it and continued on his merry way, famished.  After back to back meetings, he didn't have time for lunch so decided to pick up a sandwich, some wine and a chocolate bar in the food car. As he went to pay with his debit card, the cashier informed him that "Sorry sir, we only take Visa or cash" (of which he had neither). He pointed out that he could pay with a debit card on the train for a ticket if he wanted to but he realized there was nothing she could do about it so embarassed, he returned everything from where he got it and went back to his seat.

A few minutes later, a woman appeared next to his chair. It was the same woman who had been sitting next to the woman whose chair he helped fix. She handed him a cinnamon bun and a can of coke and said, "Please don't say anything. I felt bad for you. You seem like a gentleman. Please take this. I'm sorry it's not wine though." My husband, clearly humbled, said "Thank you." She left abruptly. He saved that can of coke. It's sitting on his desk upstairs.

About once every 6 months, I buy a baggie of hair ties. At the end of these 6 months, the only one left has expanded to the size of a saucer, eventually snaps under the weight of my hair mass and I end up with pencils in my head until I go searching through the house for an old one. Which I never find. Then I buy another baggie and start the over.

On a related note, I have big feet. Size 10 or 40 or however you're measuring. I do not dig ditches for a living or run 5k everyday. In fact, I spend the majority of my days on my ass. Yet, somehow, I'm sitting on said ass with my feet up and hubby exclaims, "How the hell is there a hole in your sock that stretches from your big toe to your ankle? And how the hell do you not notice it?"

On a related note, don't any of you wonder what it is I do for a living? Was thinking about this the other day. How I don't think I ever actually TOLD any of you. Well maybe I did, sorta. I'm not keeping it from you. It's not like I'm running a drug ring or a porn site. I'm "a writer". Not THAT kind of writer (cue a post from Mon on this subject). I'm a copywriter. Actually, I'm more than that. I'm a PR/Marketing guru. I just like the copywriting part best. I can't count the number of websites, press releases, brochures, business plans, ads, speeches, EMAILS, etc. I've written in these past 13 years. Mainly high-tech stuff but have dabbled in lots of other stuff. If you're selling it, I'm writing it.

On a completely UNRELATED note, 2 more sleeps till the big royal wedding here in Sweden. Crown Princess Victoria (she's beautiful, but did you expect anything less?) is marrying some Daniel dude. It's a HUGE deal. Can't wait to tune in on Saturday as I won't be making the trek to the big city for the mayhem.

Speaking of Swedes, I get such a kick out of them when it's Sunny and Warm. They will plunk themselves down by the river...river bed, hunk of concrete, park bench, and suntan away. Or they lean up against buildings with their faces to the sun. Or they grab a beach chair/blanket, find a field (proximity to water not important), strip down to their skivvies and bake. I guess it's because fine weather is a rare occurance in these parts. Not sure. But where I'm from, suntanning is reserved for the beach or poolside. And the water needs to be water one can safely swim in.

Wednesday/Thursday WAJ
Brekky: Egg salad/Apple
Lunch: Tuna salad/Some grocery store bought salad with garlic dressing and hardboiled egg
Dinner: The absolute worst store bought hamburgers EVER (I had to throw the last one out)/Kebab + salad
Exercise: None on Wednesday night because I had a conference call at 8:00pm and hubby arrived home from a night away in Gothenburg (but for the record, I knew I wouldn't be able to and I was bummed about it / Butt Blaster, Ab workout and OUCH!!!
Comments: 72.6.....c'mon ME!