Last night, we bade a fond farewell to the 2008 Olympic Games. We all enjoyed watching the athletes compete over the last two weeks. The kids especially enjoyed watching Thomas Finchum dive. His father teaches at Lutheran High of Indianapolis and they really felt connected to him. Our four year old, in fact, no longer wants to be a pastor when he grows up. Now he wants to be a diver. I recall similar aspirations in the 84(?) Olympics. I was sure (though I wasn't much of an athlete), that I would be the next Mary Lou Retton. Somehow, that's not exactly how my life turned out. . .!
In other news, my two middle boys (known for sword fighting, kung fu fighting, fist fighting, and the list goes on), wanted to take a bath tonight "just for fun". They wanted to wear their swimsuits, but I, being the kiljoy that I am, nixed that (who needs more laundry?). In a weak moment, post-dinner, I allowed this. After clearing the dishes, I headed upstairs to wash them and take an inventory of the situation. I entered the bathroom to be greeted by two naked boys standing (that's a no-no!) in the tub, squirting water on each other and the entire bathroom in general. After I cleaned the ceiling of dripping water, and a flood behind the toilet, I prepared to get the littlest boy into the tub. All this water inspired him to add some of his own fluid to the floor next to the tub. Ah, well. I suppose the floor was due for a scrub anyway.