In church this morning, the choir was singing something, and when they finished and were taking their seats, this little kid, 2 or 3 years old, who had obviously been waiting politely until the music was done so he wouldn't interrupt, confessed aloud, "I was bad. I didn't poop in the potty."
Well, when people think back on today's service to determine what, if anything, they remember from it, this kid's contribution will win hands down. Everyone on his side of the church was chuckling, trying not to laugh uproariously, and the deacon in charge of the agenda at the pulpit opened and closed his mouth a couple times, apparently trying to decide whether to say something or not, and finally just let it pass and said, "We'll now accept your tithes and offerings."
I'm going out running now.
Well, it was, in general, your basic dreary boring final long run before a marathon... I took it slow and made stops every half-hour or so, so that Journey could get into the lake for a drink and a swim. She veered off at a place she knew to be a pit-stop place, through some bushes, a place I'd chosen before because it's across the cove from docks where people and/or dogs are likely to be. So I let her off the leash, she ran through the bushes to the lake, and the next thing, I heard splashing and quacking and more splashingand quacking, and thought, oh, great, Ms. Wildlife Rescue's dog has taken out a duck. When I sighted her she was halfway across the lake in hot pursuit of said duck which kept making futile attempts to take off from the water and fly -- she must have injured the darn thing. Journey swam and swam and the duck swam and tried to lift off until it came to a dock, which it neatly flew right over. Journey must have started out near its nest and it did the old injured-wing lead-the-predator-away-from-the-next trick. So it flew over the dock, and Journey got out of the water ONTO the dock, where a couple with a yellow Lab were sun-bathing, and ran right up to them, this sopping wet mutt shaking cold water all over them. I'm across the lake helplessly watching all this. Their Lab went up to her and they introduced themselves in that quaint way dogs have. The duck must have decided the threat was gone and flew back over the dock towards its nest, and the chase was on again. Journey ran off the dock to shore (couldn't bring herself to jump off the dock, although she made a couple false tries, with her eye on the duck), splashed back into the water and after the duck, which started its "Help, a dog is after me and I can't fly" routine again leading Journey away from the nest, out into the middle of the lake again and away from me. It took 10 darn minutes for the intrigue to wear off the duck, whereupon Journey simply did a u-turn, abandoned it, swam ashore to me, shook, and was ready to run again. The duck swam back to its nest, quacking a bunch of 4-letter words and giving Journey obscene gestures with its ruffled feathers. This was about mile 11 of 18.
Other than that, your basic dreary boring last long run before a marathon...