Speaking of imploding, Sunday morning, we got up before dawn, woke the children, and headed out to watch the final moments of a Dallas icon.
From around the world, we have received words of encouragement, and prayer on the loss of our snake, Oliver Twist.
Maybe not the world, maybe just the DFW Metroplex but, still.
My friend Carey told me that, "A roach in your house is, like, the end of the world but a lost snake is just business as usual." It's true. I'm not proud of it, but it's true.
Friday night, three weeks after he'd gone missing, Olivia found him curled up in the bottom of the tub that holds all her American Girl Doll clothes. It's a fact we may not share with the persnickety Felicity, although I'm not sure it would bother Elizabeth in the least. She's got a pretty good sense of humor.
And here marks yet another time when I assign personalities to inanimate objects. I blame it on the children.
On another weekend note, we ate like fiends this weekend. Friday night, dinner with our brother-in-law, Joey, who was in town from San Antonio, Trey's parents, and all our minions, I mean kids.
We ate at our family's favorite Mexican dive, Herrera's. It's not pretty, or fancy, and our waiter couldn't grasp Joey's need for jalapeno's in portions fit for a giant but instead kept bringing them in emasculating little plastic cups, but we love it, and are willing to overlook it's faults for their famous bean soup and queso.
Saturday night, Trey and I went out to officially celebrate our anniversary. There was more food and I think, at some point during our meal, I may have said, "If I eat one more bit, I may implode."
In this picture, I've cropped out the dog, the children, Monkey trying to teach my boys to dance like Michael Jackson, and some boys playing basketball with Dea and Darius. Otherwise, it was a totally peaceful shot.
Texas Stadium, home to the Dallas Cowboys for 39 years, was being imploded and we had no intention of missing. Dea and Darius opted out because, 1. it was 6 a.m., and 2. they knew they could watch it on YouTube at a more reasonable hour. Party poopers.
Just as we got to the top of the overpass, right in front of the Stadium, traffic came to a dead stop. A parking lot really. And, despite the police's best efforts to keep people in their cars, everyone was on the road, watching the show from a really great vantage point - like these hooligans right here.
I felt sorry for this sweet woman who was "parked" next to us. She'd just gotten off work and all she wanted was go home and get in her bed. She had no choice but to participate in the ceremonies.
There were fireworks just before the blast.
And finally, Texas Stadium was imploded forever.
And it was right about now that I wished I'd put the larger lens on my camera.
If I had, I might have gotten a shot like this one.
Hindsight, people, hindsight.
And finally, Sunday, Trey and I went to the beautiful wedding of a friend. Trey got several compliments on his sport coat which he bought at Sam's Club, a fact he's pretty proud of. The many compliments initiated a friendly conversation between the two of as as to which is classier, Sam's Club or Walmart. You might be saying to yourself, "Hmm. Isn't that an oxymoron?" and, if so, Trey would cheerfully be willing to debate the life out of you until you succumb to his Sam's Club brainwashing.
Well, as long as we've still got that spark...
They served peach cobbler which officially makes it the best wedding I've ever been to in my entire life.
I'm easily swayed by peach cobbler.
How was your weekend?