The boys on my brain.

I've had a lot on my mind. Got another sick grandparent. My grandpa could use your prayers, he took a tumble backwards out of his wheelchair after some "inhouse" modifications by the nursing home staff. He hit his head on the bed and had to go to the emergency room. After that, he didn't wake up the next day and had to go back to the ER. He eventually came to, but they aren't sure why he wouldn't wake up.

They took him in for x-rays, and they found a fracture in his head from when he was 12. He fell on some ice in the driveway and broke his melon. But no one fixed it back then, no one wore "Bumpy the safety dog" helmets. No one took kids who bumped their heads to the doctor. He's been in a nursing home for over 4 years. He's won valentine's day "king" while there, and got his motorized wheelchair privledges revoked for reckless driving in the halls. That's my boy.

He used to be a sharpshooter. He would win countless trap and skeet tournaments, and was a basketball star with massive massive feet. (Hmm talk about getting it honestly). He was a smoker, and then was a quitter. Cold turkey, and never went back. He loves his dogs. Now he says weird things and pats strange girls on the rear thinking that they are me, or one of the eight sweet girls in his life. He used to call me Lindsey-bug. I remember HATING it. Like would run away from his open arms and just hated being the center of his attention. I hated being called Lindsey-bug with the fire of a thousand suns. Once, he picked out my Christmas present, it was this an awkward sweater with a giant number "1" on it. "Cause I was his number one girl." I guess he liked that I was athletic, and he could most relate to that. But it was still awkward, considering he had four granddaughters and three daughters and a wife that watched me open this gift. I never wore it. He was one of my biggest fans and my biggest critic. Funny how those two roles tend to be driven by the same emotion.

Yeah. I have all four of my grandparents. It's a huge blessing in my life.

Another blessing was meeting little James Wacker for the first time this week. Caroline and Dan's firstborn. He's precious and perfect, as little boys should be. Beautiful kid.

In case you were actually reading this thing, the aforementioned boy was a false alarm. It's good though, I'd never actually been rejected before, and it was kinda nice. Like, life went on. Whew glad I got that outta the way. On with the Chorophyll.

I'm up late again... and I'm watching Conan O'Brien. He's hilarious, I'm sorry. He was just doing spoofs on musicals. One was the "Phantom of the Juicer". So that's going to be stuck in my head for-evah. Thanks. I had just gotten "In the year two-thousand...In the year two-thousand" out of my head. It took, like, six years.